


Homecoming: Rupture

by ClearlyInvsible



Series: Homecoming [1]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Background Relationships, Blood and Violence, Broken Bird, Dismemberment, F/M, Family Feels, Fantasy, Major Character Injury, Married Couple, Military, Original Character(s), Politics, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:28:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 22
Words: 102,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21815182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClearlyInvsible/pseuds/ClearlyInvsible
Summary: With Anakos defeated and Corrin on the throne of Valla, the Awakening trio make their way back to Ylisse. Paired with their otherworldly spouses, they find their way home. However, the world they left behind hasn't remained idle, with each of them thrust into new conflicts and journeys. First in a series, chronicling Severa/Selena's first person accounts of her family's Homecoming.
Relationships: Cynthia/Gerome (Fire Emblem), My Unit | Reflet | Robin/Tiamo | Cordelia, Serena | Severa & Tsubaki | Subaki, Serge | Cherche & Viaur | Virion
Series: Homecoming [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1571890
Comments: 1
Kudos: 27





	1. Prologue: Forest Fall

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, everyone. This is a second publishing of a fic I've been uploading to FFN. Up until now, I've stayed exclusive over there, but I've decided to spread my wings a bit.
> 
> You could probably tell by the summary, but this is a Fateswakening crossover. It takes place after the events of Fates: Revelation and Awakening are all said and done. It's primarily an family/adventure fic, with a greater arching narrative.
> 
> Hope you all enjoy
> 
> o/

"Ugh… what… where…"

My head is stomping like a pegasus stampede, pressure hammering harshly against my earbuds. The entire world is just… spinning around me, as if the sky was a massive blue and white whirlpool. Stupid… dragon… when he told us that his dumb crystal would take us back, he didn't mention it would give us a hangover too. What is it with these stupid Gods never giving us the full story?

"Laslow!? Odin!? One of you idiots, help me up!" I call, brushing a hand up to fix my bangs. Drunkenly, I sit up. The world still feels like it's made of smoke, nothing seems solid. My vision's finally clearing though. Looking left and right, trying to make heads or tails of where we had landed. Too much green for Nohr… but these trees didn't seem Hoshidan either. Certainly didn't look anything like Valla.

"Subaki?" I call out, slowly pushing myself up to my feet. Standing is as hard as I expected. It was as if I was at sea on a rocking frigate, instead of lost in the middle of the woods. Staying stable is its own effort, but… slowly, things stop rocking. My head stops pounding. The world stops spinning.

"Caeldori!?" I called out again, pitch jumping up as the words hung in my throat.

'"Hello? Everyone!?"

I'm only greeted by the forest's silence, so I start to look over my person. Make sure that everything is where it's supposed to be. Armor seems intact, the leather doesn't appear to be broken at any of the seams. Still, I've got grass stains blotching all over the black dye. I can feel a few blades of grass still hanging in my hair, even as I try to pull them off. Rapier seems to be intact, same with the shield. But the metal's seen better days, red paint peeling off from all the blows it's deflected. Gods, I'm a mess. Mother would be beyond irate if she saw me look like this…

I quickly bring my hands up to my mouth, yelling as strongly as my lungs can manage. "This isn't **FUNNY** , you guys!" But still, nothing. The only reply I get is the sound of wildlife scuttering around in the treeline that surrounds me. This is… bad. Now I'm actually starting to worry.

Start to move forwards, craning my head up to see the the angle of the sun. The orange ball of fire's just perched up above me, glowering down upon the clearing like some sort of unwanted blemish. But it's getting lower and lower. My shadow trails out behind me like a Kitsune's tail, the dusk's chill is finally starting to register. Sundown's almost here, I need to hurry.

Picking up the pace, moving into a jog. The sun's retreat is broken off as the trees cover my advance through the woods. A few birds mock me from above as they soar past, goading me into a full run. Stupid, stupid, stupid. We should've known this would have happened. Anakos created the crystal for only three people. We ended up bringing _nine_ back home! Why didn't we think of this? Why am I such an idiot!?

"Subaki!? Caeldori!? Inigo, Owain? **SOMEONE**!?"

And then I finally hear it over the distance. A voice, low and male. Gruff, incomprehensible. Not a voice I've heard before. But it's a voice, it's a sign of life. Another, new voice follows. Then another, then another, then… a cry of pain, sharp and curt, coming from a young woman.

This time, the birds couldn't even keep up with me.

* * *

At the far end I find a break in the foliage. A proper road, pressed down and cobbled. Wide, with the trees around it having been uprooted and cleared. A small wagon train, three carriages each pulled by a horse was waiting there. The center wagon was uncovered, barrels and bags poking out from the top. All stacked in a uniform manner, clearly having gone through some kind of inspection. The two that lead and followed are covered, I can't see what's inside.

At the front an older man clad in armor stands puffing a pipe. Never understood why people smoke, the stuff looks and smells so… _ugh._

His back faced away from the traveling direction of the caravan, clearly observing some sort of event towards the center. At the rear wagon, two younger looking soldiers seem to be talking with each other, not paying much mind themselves.

Then near the center, I see it.

On the ground a red-haired girl lay on her side, groaning loudly. Her hands clutch around her stomach, form rolling slightly. The man above her seems apathetic, the shield on his shoulder and light garb matching that of a usual mercenary. Another figure stands behind him, a female mage. In her hands are two long naginatas, ones that seemed alien in her grip. Heck she's basically analyzing them like they're some kind of ancient relic, totally enamored by the foreign weapons.

"For the last time." The mercenary barks out, moving around the injured girl with a slow and deliberate pace. His boots seemingly drawing a semi-circle in the road around her as he marches. "What are your orders!? What's a Chon'sin scouting party doing this far inside Valmese borders!?"

Valm. Ok, good. It brought us back to where we left from. That means we're back in my world… but that doesn't explain where everyone else ended up. The others wouldn't have just abandoned us like this. Not by choice. And why does he think Caeldori's from Chon'sin? Their armor's similar but… it's still pretty distinct. I guess the real question is why does he care?

Ugh, this is making less and less sense...

"I already told you." I can hear her reply, words slurred as she rolled over and tried to push herself back up onto her feet. "I don't... know what... you're **talking about!** " Caeldori bellows back. Even I'm reeling away, last time I ever heard her use a tone like this was when she had given Saizo's son some kind of demerit.

"Do I look like an moron, girl?" The man continues, not stopping his walk as he spoke. Each word he emotes with a flamboyantly stupid hand-gesture. "That armor's clearly Chon'sin in origin, and you don't look Valmese! So again, what in the name of the Voice are you doing here!?"

At this point, Caeldori's brought herself up to a knee, seemingly struggling to take in breath as she just glared upwards at the man. He decides to respond by throwing another kick towards her, high up between her eyes. My blade's leaving it's scabbard before I even think, ready to lunge out of the trees and end this dastard.

Luckily, I don't have to.

In a flash of movement, both of her hands shoot up and clamp around his boot. Before the mercenary can even react to what was going on, the warrior-woman jerks his foot to the side, causing him to lose balance and slam into the gravel. Without missing a beat, Caeldori lunges up and straddled the man, starting to throw a flurry of strikes at his visage.

He didn't even bind her hands? Wow, this guy really is a moron.

But this buys me a great opening

As the brawl gets more and more audible, both combatants kicking and screaming, the two soldiers from before get up and grabbed their spears. The wagon they had been guarding begins to rock ever-so slightly on it's own. The older man remains still, puffing his pipe as he observed the scuffle. The mage backs away completely, clearly not wanting to get involved in the slightest. All eyes seem completely focused on the flamboyant idiot getting the pounding of a lifetime.

Quickly I rush onto the road, approaching behind the armored old man. Right as I get behind the sod, I can see his head turn ever so slightly as my feet hit the cobblestone. Too little, too late. I bring my foot against his ankle as hard as I could, staggering him down onto a knee, then smashing my hand-guard against the back of his head. All at once he just crumples to the ground. The thud's drowned out by the fight, and the others are already preoccupied as is.

From there I curve around the opposite side, the area seemingly clear of soldiers. Judging from the smacks and screams, the fistfight has been replaced by a full-on wrestling match, the two new soldiers seemingly now trying to pry Caeldori off of her target with no avail. "Get her off! Get this crazy witch off of me!"

As I reach the rear wagon, it's still rumbling and shaking on its own. OK, someone is definitely in here, and they want out. So I clamber in to finally see who it is.

In the very back, my idiot has his hands bound together against a post. His hair was down, shrouding his face and making him look like a mangy mutt. A large gash was popping from above his right eye, dried red streaking down a cheek. At first, he was too focused on his bindings to even notice me come up to the rear. But as I enter, his eyes zip down and his legs rear back, ready to strike at whomever was closing in.

As he realizes it was me, his wild eyes soften, moving his feet back and giving me ample room to move forward and cut his binds. "Thank the Gods, Selena. You had us worried sick!" He exclaims. Once he's free he rubs at the ropeburn branding his wrists.

"Me? What about you two!? I woke up and everyone was gone! Do you realize how worried I was!?" I snap back, grabbing him by the shoulders and helping him upright. Not sure if I want to kiss him or tenderize him for making me panic like he did. But before I could decide, a metallic 'CLUNK' rung through the air, followed by a man screaming in pain.

Both of us freeze, look at each other in the eyes, and utter a single name simultaneously.

"Caeldori!" We cry, scampering out of the wagon and rushing around the corner towards the brawl.

Well, _former_ brawl. The fight was basically over.

The mercenary lay on the ground, his head tilted to the side and his body motionless except for his chest ever slightly rising and lowering. One of the spearmen is splayed out against the side of the middle wagon, head dipped behind the boards and arms clinging to the side. The second is even worse, lying face-down on the road with a small stream of red pouring from an extremely crooked nose. His pain-filled moan filled the air, a now dented metal helmet resting next to his form.

All that's left was the singular mage, holding the larger of the two naginatas as if it was some kind of pike. The tip wavers, the woman looks horrified as Caeldori's scuffed up form marched forwards. The girl brings her hands together, grinning rather evilly as she cracked her knuckles in anticipation.

"She reminds me of you when she's upset." Subaki observes with a nervous laugh, pulling a band from his belt and doing his hair back up into it's usual style. I couldn't help but smirk as I watched the fight reach it's terminus.

"She got it from the better half of the family." I reply, waiting for the mage to make a move.

As Caeldori moved up, the mage made a clumsy forward thrust with the weapon. Over-extending herself and losing her footing, all the while over-choreographing the strike. All it takes is for Caeldori to sidestep the blade, grabbing it at the top of the shaft and ripping it out of her grasp. She then spun around in a sharp turn, swinging the blunt end of the weapon about and smashing it harshly against her combatant's temple. With that one strike, the woman stumbles back and fell to the ground, her mage hat flying off unceremoniously and fluttering down next to her.

"I _told you,_ I don't know what you're talking about!" Caeldori roared with finality, spinning the polearm around and holding it at her side. With a sigh, the burned out teenager just collapses down onto the roadway, clearly exhausted from having dealt with the guards.

"Now, the get front wagon ready. I'll help her inside." I say simply, not waiting for my companion to respond before rushing over to lift the depleted woman up.

* * *

"So let me get this straight." I begin, running a cloth over the blade of my rapier as we continued into the horizon. We've been riding away for well over an hour, no one has tried to follow us yet. Subaki handles the reigns of the horses as I sit next to him, all the while Caeldori remains passed out in the rear. "We end up getting sent to that field, right?"

He nods, giving the left horse a bit of a tug to have us start turning left. He's been silent this entire time, and it's started to just irritate me. He always tries to act so _poised and calm_. Even after we were married, he only breaks his perfect facade rarely.

"No one else was with us. Laslow, Odin, neither of their families?"

He shakes his head this time. "No, only us three. I came to first, then Caeldori. I told her to wait with you, so I could get a bearing on our surroundings"

"But instead you ran into those soldiers and got jumped. They were yelling something about Chon'sin to you too?"

Once again, the red-haired man nods slowly. His eyes seemed rather hard, focused on the road ahead of him. He doesn't look at me, he doesn't turn around to peer into the wagon behind us. He doesn't move an inch. He just keeps staring forwards, like a statue.

"So either Caeldori went looking for you-" I continue, keeping my gaze level at the side of his face as we rode on. "-or she followed them and was caught herself."

Finally he sighs, his shoulders drooping simultaneously. "Selena, I know you're upset-"

"I'm upset? I'm _upset?"_ I start, exasperated at the understatement. "I'm not upset Subaki."

Gritting my teeth and sheathing my sword back onto my hip, before shooting my hand up and jabbing him in the shoulder. "I'm **livid!** Of course Caeldori would have followed you! You should've stayed with us until I woke up!"

No reaction to the strike, instead just continuing to drive the horses onwards. "I know, I k-" He tries to answer, before I cut him off once more.

"Oh, you know? So why did you do it?"

"Because I thought the others might still be nearby!" He exclaims, clearly trying to defend his actions. "How was I supposed to know there was a squadron of soldiers who would accuse me of being an enemy spy!?"

"Even then, you could have waited for all of us to go together! Not rush off and leave us behind!" I shoot back. He's still looking at the road instead of me, and it's only making me even more angry. My hand grabs his shoulder and twists him so he's facing me. _"Look at me when I'm talking to you!"_

My Husband's normally calm and poised visage is now facing me with annoyance and frustration. "You were unconscious for almost an **hour!** I did what I thought was best!"

 **"How was that for the best!?** " I lob back, fuming.

This is going nowhere, he's too damn stubborn to admit he made a mistake. For once, just once, I wish he would act the same why he did when we first started seeing each other. "I'm not some damsel in distress, Subaki! I can handle myself in a fight!"

The man's face curled into a frown, his right hand whipping up to jab a finger at me. But once again, right before he could speak his mind, the wagon behind us rumbles. A long, loud snort erupts from the flaps, reminding us both of the precious cargo we were hauling.

Shooting one last glare to each other, we both resign ourselves back to our previous activities.

This isn't over though. Not by a long shot.


	2. C-1: Remilitarized Zone

"So. _Hoooooooooooooot."_

Before I thought that Plegia was the hottest place on the planet. With the desert, scorching sands, steamy winds and sun constantly tanning your hide. But Valm was giving even that horrible place a run for its money. For three days now we've been travelling in the direction of Chon'sin, without a single village or outpost in sight. We aren't worried about food, the wagon we 'borrowed' keeps us stocked up. What I'm worried about now, was if we're lost or not. The map we found was at least a decade old, and didn't give me any help in navigating us through this forest. So now we're just following the road, and this stupid map is now my fan. Except it isn't even keeping me cool, so it's still basically worthless.

"You could always go in the back with Caeldori." Subaki advised, his voice hoarse and strained. "She's probably gone back to sleep by now."

My husband wasn't adjusting to the new climate at all, he looks even worse then I do. A dark circle of sweat lined his collar, what was normally a prim and proper hair-do slumped down like a sleeping rooster. Even his usual perfect posture was fractured.

In spite of my lingering resentment, I can't help but feel awful about his current state. I keep thinking about the situation I've put him in, and I'm starting to realize this is more draining than he's letting on. Leaving everything he ever knew to come with me couldn't have been easy for him.

I'm still mad at him for being an idiot. But I'm not going to pretend like I hate him. I'll save that for when I see Inigo's stupid face again. Hopefully he'll be in good enough shape that I can wring his neck without feeling too bad about it after.

I nod, fold the map back up and hand it over to him before I slip between the canvas folds behind us. I'll speak to him once we finally found a village or town to rest in. Right now I can't risk another argument breaking out. Not with Valm apparently being hostile territory again. We still hadn't found out what the cause of this little mess was. Walhart's supposed to be dead and gone, anyway.

Going inside, the smell of the wagon hits me all at once. 'Smell' is being kind, with the heat outside it more resembles a stench. Even taking a single breath burns my throat enough to make me consider going out and just walking alongside the wagon. But if I did that, then I'd have to deal with the sun again… crap.

Caeldori hadn't, in fact, gone to sleep. Instead she's sitting in the center of the frame, a piece of parchment and a quill in hand as she keeps going from container to container. After each one she would scribble something down, then move to the next one, then the next one, then the next one…

...She can't have not heard me come in.

"Enjoying yourself, dear?" I mutter rather vindictively, sitting myself down at the front end and crossing my legs.

That was enough to break Caeldori's reverie, the young girl finally turns to face me. At least she's handling the change better than her father. For the most part she looks exactly the same, excluding a few bruises that she had earned a few days back. The memory of her clobbering that Valmese soldier was still fresh in my mind. Pride and worry bounced along in my heart at the thought.

"Mother! I apologize, I was…" She gestured to the stock that surrounded us, letting the setting speak in her place as she laughed rather nervously. Caeldori's temperament is… off. She usually wasn't this reserved around anyone, let alone me. "A-anyway." She continues. "Is there something you need. Does Father need more water?"

"If he does, he won't say anything until he nearly passes out." I jab, wincing a bit as I realized how edged my tone was. She noticed as well, her nervous smile falling into a soft and concerned frown.

Great job, Severa. Five seconds in and you're driving this talk into the ground.

Still, I may as well try and salvage this.

"Is everything alright?" I ask, switching the subject as best as I can. "You've been walking on eggshells ever since we got moving. If you're sick, I can try and use a stave."

She shakes her head quickly, setting both of her hands on her lap. "No, I'm fine. Just… tired."

"Tired." I repeat in disbelief. "You've spent the past few days back here. Either sleeping or writing. _Sometimes_ you poke your head outside to see where we're going." The poor girl's face shot up a deep red, her crimson eyes darting downwards. Even when embarrassed, she emulates her Grandmother perfectly.

"Caeldori…" I shimmy myself over, placing a cautious hand on her arm and squeezing it. "Look, I know that this is all… 'sudden'." She starts to tense up under my touch. OK, I'm getting close. "But I want to be here for you. So please, just tell me what's on your mind?"

A few beats of silence weigh down on us both. She remains still a bit longer, before she brings her head back up with her usual smile. Once again she shakes her head, and I can feel my heart fall in my chest. "I'm fine, Mother. Please, don't worry." Is all she says. All I _heard_ was 'Please, don't press this.'

With a resigned sigh, I comply, pulling my hand back and returning the smile. "Alright, alright. But I'm still going to give you a once over with the stave." As she opened her mouth to protest, I lift my hand up and shoot her a glare. "This isn't a debate, Caeldori. Lay down, I'll dig it out."

This time she's the one sighing, grumbling something under her breath before complying. I guess this is what being a parent is like. She won't tell me anything, she won't let me help, she cuts herself off. It's like I'm living on repeat of how I acted when I ran into Mother again.

OK, no. She isn't nearly as cold as I was when I ran into Mother again.

I grab the healing stave and take hold of it, two hands grasping it near the center. With a careful breath, my eyes shut as I focus as best as I can on the blueish orb that rests atop the long metal handle. After a few moments, I can feel the light shine onto my nose and cheeks. Using these things always feels fuzzy. As if the stave is channeling part of me out into the world. My body feels warm and light, but also dense and solid.

"You always were better with magic than us." I could hear Caeldori muse beneath me, both of us giggling lightly at the thought. "Father never had any luck with healing, and I'm still only a beginner with staves and rods. But you're a natural at this."

"It's harder than it looks." I admit, biting my tongue before I start bragging. Was it really a reflex for me now? "Your entire body feels condensed, but somehow floaty…" I explain, popping one of my eyes open to look down upon my 'patient.' The few scrapes she had seemed to disappear, much to my relief. My eye closes once more, the light from the stave slowly fading away with an exhale.

"We can practice if you want." I added with a smirk, opening my eyes back up. "Practice makes perfect, nobody's born knowing everything, yak yak yak, Motherly wisdom."

"Just like Grandfather practiced with you, right?" The younger redhead asks, sitting herself back up and positioning herself back across from me once more. "You never really speak about him. You've told me all about Grandmother but… what was he like?"

And just like that, I feel my heart sink back into my chest. Whatever warm feeling from the stave that hovered inside of me disappeared in that instant.

I avoid this topic for my own sake. Trying to discuss my father is like pulling out an arrow stuck in my shoulder. The shaft is barbed, even touching the thing is painful, let alone yanking down on it. It's bad enough that he died in my old timeline, not many people had the 'privilege' of losing their father twice.

"He was a good man." I begin, trying to muster out as much as I could. "There was more than just magic he taught me. We used to spar together, it's how I learned how to fight with a sword." Another breath. "Every time I had a problem, he would sit down and listen to me. Even when I didn't deserve it, he was… always looking out for me."

You can do this, Severa. Just keep going. It'll only get harder if you stop.

"...He was my role-model. With everything. Just like how you look up to your father, I looked up to him."

"You miss him a lot. Did he um… pass, before you went to Nohr?" She questioned. I suppose she picked up on how fresh the wound sounded.

All I can do is nod to confirm, before the wagon comes to a quick halt. Both of us look to the front, scuppering forwards before I wave for her to stay behind me. "Gods, Subaki-" I started, poking my head out through the folds. "What's with the hold-up? Is there something in the road?"

"Not something, some _things_." He says, before moving a bit to the side so I could get a view of what exactly laid ahead of us.

A pair of large towers, each one with a few spearmen and some horses resting at the bottom. The body of each structure seemed to climb about twenty feet into the air. They're fairly makeshift, cobbled together out of wooden nails and planks. Barely strong enough to hold themselves up, plus the archer that rested on top of each. Even the breeze seems ready to bring them back down to earth.

As we approach, one of the guardsmen calls out and motions towards us. A few of the soldiers begin to rush toward us, spears in hand. The archers knock arrows into their bows, quickly taking aim.

"Think word got out about our little 'supply raid'?" I jokingly ask, drawing my sword out from its sheath and bringing myself up next to our coach's driver.

"No, dear. I'm sure they're bringing a gift basket. That's what the spears are for." Subaki quips back, grabbing hold of his naginata as Caeldori feeds it to him through the flaps.

"I hate that I'm rubbing off on you." I mutter begrudgingly, much to his visible delight. "So, want to get off here and face them down?"

He shook his head, pointing up towards the archers. "Those are definitely longbows. If we stop now, they'll be able to hit us for sure. Even if we try to turn around."

"Greaaaat…" I complain. My mind rushes back to the tactics lessons that Morgan had tried to sit me through. Staying put isn't an option, it would just mean we would need to dodge arrows and spears at the same time. We could try to just rush past but… they could catch us easily on horseback with the wagon slowing us down.

Then the idea pops into my head. A bit of a crazy plan, sure, but plans were only crazy if they didn't work. Our horses are large and strong. Their weight paired with the wagon would be am extremely heavy force force. Anything short of an solid steel wall would probably collapse from a direct hit.

"You trust me?" I ask, glancing over to my companion.

He shoots me his usual perfect smile. "Of course, dear." He chirps. Poor boy doesn't even know what I have in mind yet. So _perfectly naive_ of him.

"Great." I said, matching the smile. "Ram the inside of the right tower."

"What?!" His voice almost cracked with that one.

"Ram. The. Tower." I repeat, word by word. I keep up my grin, resisting the urge to laugh as his friendly facade falls apart. "Oh, and make sure you and Caeldori jump out in time." With that final instruction, I prepare myself to jump out of the wagon. Gods, this is too much fun.

"I take it you're going to distract the infantry, then?" Subaki asks in frustration, finally lifting the reins up and spurning the horses forward.

"Now you're using that famous Hoshidan head of yours!" I confirm before jumping out of the wagon and landing onto the road. As Subaki careens off towards his new target, the two spearmen that were advancing on us to intercept dive out of the way. He zooms past, both of them dragging themselves back up to their feet as if they dodged a cannon-ball.

As I size the two up, I'm even more confident that this is going to be an easy fight. Both of them are men, taller than me and better armored. But that also means they're slower, and judging from their stances they don't have much actual combat experience. They're practically huddling against each other. Standard defensive posture, clearly trying to cover an attack from the front or the sides. But they're acting like I'm a charging horse, not a single swordswoman. And I'm not going to throw myself on their spears.

"Alright, losers. How's this gonna go?" I ask with a twirl of my blade. Rushing them wasn't an option, I doubted that I could goad them out of breaking formation. The wagon crashing into the tower would probably be enough to draw their attention. But until then I had to keep them focused on me. "I still don't know what you guys' problems are. Do soldiers around here make a habit of attacking random people?"

Both of them start to advance slowly, spears still aimed towards me. I stopped in my tracks, staying out of their thrusting distance for the time being. "No answer? What, are you two too daft to understand what I'm saying?" I continue on, resting the blade of my sword on my shoulder and my hand on my hip. "Seriously. Do _either_ of you speak at all? Helloooooooooooooooo."

Off in the distance, I can see Caeldori jump from the rear of the wagon. Both of the archers had already begun launching arrows downwards, making the canvas that wrapped the frame above her resemble a pincushion. She gets up and darts for the tree-line, ducking under a pair of arrows before making it to safety.

Then, it happens. All at once, the horses and carriage ram into the side of the right tower. Wood chunks fly left and right, trailing off behind the wagon as it tips over and falls onto its side. Subaki himself then scampers out and away, naginata at the ready as he clears the splash-zone of the tilted tower.

It tips slowly over, the archer on top making a desperate leap out of its nest before it careens into its twin. Wood splinters, the second archer doesn't even try to jump for it as he's forced along for the ride back down to the ground. A deafening crack fills the air, startling the horses that surrounded the makeshift outpost. If they weren't tied to a tree, they likely would have run off.

I decide to press my attack, lunging forwards at the pair of enemies before me. Both were rather startled at the sudden cacophony of sound. One even turned his head about to try and catch what had even happened outside his view, dropping his guard somewhat.

His friend tries to stop my sword from going into his chest. A bad attempt to parry my strike as came forth. Unfortunately for him, by the time his spear even made contact, half of my blade had stabbed through my target. It was enough to make me lose my own grip, however. Ontop of that, the little twerp smacks me in the gut with his spear's shaft, causing me to stumble backwards myself.

Suddenly, I'm on the defensive now. He keeps pressing his advantage, trying to land another hit on me. He thrusts, I dodge. He thrusts, I dodge. Another thrust, I block it with my shield. Again I end up losing my footing like an idiot. This time it's even worse, I land on my back entirely like a beached whale.

Crap, crap, crap. This isn't good. Peddle back, draw your dagger, try to keep your distance. He's getting closer now, and he doesn't look happy. Watch the tip of the spear, wait for him to strike roll out of the way. Just like how Mother showed me. Wait for it, wait for it…

_**SHUNK** _

What was that. Did he stab me? I don't feel stabbed.

I look up, still holding my back-up blade close as I watch the second soldier fall face-first to the ground. A long arrow stuck out of his spine like a horribly misplaced tail. Off in the distance, Subaki stood with a bow, letting it fall to the ground as he ran over to help me.

...Great, now I don't have an excuse.


	3. C-2: Inns and Outs

Nightfall came soon after the battle, and with it the cold took the place of the blazing heat. The fiery gaze of the sun was replaced by the frigid watch of the moon, with the trees swaying too and fro. The carcass of both towers lay dormant, one breaking clearly into the treeline while the other blocked access through the road entirely. The wagon was useless now, the spokes clearly broken in half. One of the horses broke both of its front legs but… a little stave-work fixed that up.

We ended up leaving the carnage behind about as quickly has we had caused it, taking a few of the horses and loading them with some supplies before riding off into the distance. Leaving a trail of destruction like this was going to start haunting us. If they didn't have people trying to capture us before, once that outpost was discovered they would be scouring the entire region. Especially after we… _I_ ended up getting some of the men killed.

It still feels so weird. Growing up, I was always surrounded by violence. Risen everywhere, innocent people getting cut to pieces. Entire towns disappearing overnight. Fight in the day, sleep in the afternoon, fight even more at night. Kill, kill, kill. Kill them before they killed you. But that was Risen, killing them was easy. Killing people…

It was a battle. I didn't hesitate, I knew I did the right thing. But it didn't make me feel any better about it afterwards. During the ride away from the scene, I spent the entire time quiet as a mouse. It was probably best that I didn't bother my family more than I already had to begin with.

Now we've reached a small village a ways down the road. At the town square, there's a small Inn with a light outside. We quickly tie up the horses, find our way inside, and rent a pair of rooms for the night. Caeldori insisted that she be given her own space, being a 'grown lady capable of handling herself.'

It's already deep into the night as I sit myself down in our room and begin to undress myself. Sword off, shield off, armor off. Stripping myself down to my small-clothes. I'm so exhausted I don't even care about how it looks anymore, all I want to do is melt away into this chair and forget the day's events. This always happens every night after a battle. My nerves just punch me in the face, brave act slips off to show my actual fear.

This is all going so wrong. We're being hunted down by Gods knows how many soldiers. The first few days we've spent back home have been nothing but constant fighting, fleeing and fatigue. When I asked the Innkeeper what the date was, I found out that it had been five whole years since we had all left on Anakos' mission.

Five years of my life, gone. I hadn't told anyone back home where I was going. Lucina, Cynthia, Noire, they all probably think I'm dead. The rest of the new Shepards probably helped them try to look for me, but I was in a completely other realm.

Mother, oh Gods. First she lost Father, now she thinks she's lost me. What kind of fool am I?

Stupid, selfish, Severa. Never thinking about my actions. Never wondering how what I'll do will affect the others. When I first came back, I ended up making Mother cry. Now I've probably gone and caused her even more pain. Her, all of my friends, everyone I ever cared about. That's not even factoring in the hell I've dragged my new family through as well.

I just sit in my chair, tearing up and silently sobbing. I can feel my entire form just bleed into the chair. I don't want to get up, I just want this all to be over. I just want to be home again, to see everyone safe and sound.

"I thought something was wrong. You were far to quiet on the ride here."

My roommate finally speaks, stepping into the room and making his way over to me. Subaki decided to jump at the chance of using the bath-house once we finally arrived, handing me the key to the room and running off with a rag and brush in hand. Right now he looks just like a wet, poofed up poodle. Towel around his waist, hair down and frizzed up. His clothes were all tossed over his shoulder. If I had it in me, I'd say that he looked absolutely ungentlemanly. But I can't, not now. All I can do is try to wipe my face clean.

That's when I feel something warm wrap around me. It feels safe and familiar to the touch as I'm lifted up and out of my seat. Carried over to the bed and setting me down. As I open my eyes I can sense Subaki sit down next to me, pulling his own small-clothes back on. "I know, I know. I look ungentlemanly and ridiculous. I can't _always_ look perfect in front of you, and I apologize for that."

I laugh. An actual, happy laugh. It's the first time in days I've been able to do that. Sniffling, I blotch my eyes once more, trying to get myself together. "Y-you better." I say, halfheartedly playing along. But even I'm having trouble keeping up my usual persona. "A-acting so careless in front of your w-wife. Have you no shame?"

It's his turn to laugh, and once he's done making himself decent, he wraps his hand around mine. Our fingers interlock so easily, it's just reflexive at this point. Sighing, I rest my head on his bare shoulder and close my eyes once more. "I'm so sorry that I did this to both of you."

I can feel him rumble as he chuckles at my words. "What, the wagon?" He asks, playing dumb. "Well, that trick nearly caused me to tear a hole in my pants. But they came out fine. Mostly. I'll need to scrub the dirt out tomorrow. And iron out the wrinkles. Oh, and we should get a sewing kit. You think the market here will have one?"

Sighing, I nod carefully in response to his words. But I can't just let this hang in the air longer than it needs to be. He deserves an apology. For everything. "I made you give up everything for me. Your rank, your country, your _world_. Uprooted you and my only daughter, and dragged you both to a place neither of you understand. _I_ don't even understand anymore."

Again I can feel my words choke up in my throat. It's even worse than when I was speaking about Father. He's gone, but now I might lose what I even have left. "I should've came back alone. You two would've been happy in Hoshido."

"You're being ridiculous." I heard him say curtly. All elements of playfulness had been replaced by a softer tone. Pressure wrapped itself around my hand. "I know you're smarter than think that."

"But it's true!" I protest. Crap, I can feel my eyes start prickling again. Keep yourself under control, Severa. Don't turn into a little girl. "Think about it! If you had stayed, you could've had any job you wanted in the Army! You were a royal retainer, one of the best sky knights in the Army. _The_ best sky-knight in the Army! And Caeldori, she'd be safe with all of her friends. Both of you would've had everything you wanted."

A break of silence between our words. I can feel his shoulders rise and lower with each breath. Then I can feel his hand let go of my own. His shoulder moves, he's getting up from the bed. Gods, I hit the nail right on the head. I knew he had doubts, I knew he regretted this. Saying this just made him realize it. Now he'll just try and find a way to go back. If there even is a way to go back.

Then I can feel it, a new sensation on my ring-finger. I open my eyes to see him on a knee, he's clearly holding onto the ring that was on my hand. "You remember when I gave this to you, right? During one of your crazy contests that you put everyone in Lady Corrin's army through."

I nod silently, listening as best as I can as he continued. "I knew what I was getting into then and there. A relationship with a Nohrian soldier. A Nohrian Royal Retainer, no less! It was… not something expected of me."

"I still haven't broken that competitive streak." I commented out of the blue, blinking my eyes clear again.

"But you're still the same woman I fell for then. You're still the same hard-working, self-improving, good-hearted person I fell in love with. You're the same woman I married, the same woman who I have a child with. And I'm still the same man you married."

He starts to stand to his feet, lifting me up with him as my eyes lock onto his. Red eyes, just like Caeldori's. Tired, bruised, battered. But not beaten, not yet. So much energy and tenacity still hidden between them. And something else… hope.

"You and Caeldori are the only two people I don't have to pretend around. I still do, sometimes. So that I can feel worthy of you both. Because I want to be perfect _for_ you both. In Hoshido, I built myself up for myself. But now, I do it for you both." He says, before coming down to softly press his lips against my own.

It's the first time we've even embraced like this since we came to Valm. The entire kiss just feels so warm and comforting. Like a protective shroud wrapping around my person, whispering into my ear that everything is going to be alright. That it'll all end well. My own personal happy-place, the one I can always escape to whenever I don't think I can go on anymore.

When he breaks off the kiss, the warmth fades away all to quickly. I want it back, to stay with me. But I can't be selfish enough to demand that. Not yet.

"I don't deserve either of you." I admit, resting my forehead against his bare chest and smiling. "But I'm glad I have you both either way."

With that last word, we found ourselves settling down for our first real night's sleep back home.

* * *

The next day I found myself wandering through the village market, stopping by the local smith to try and make some repairs to our armament. We barely had any money to spend, but still, I could feel the call of the stalls. Some new clothes would be nice. Or a new shield. Maybe some throwing daggers… No! No, bad Severa! Stop proving Jakob right!

I have to practically sit on my hands to stop them from fidgeting. I really do have a problem. Even when I don't have a proper pay stipend I've just got the urge to buy something. Oooh, like that sundress over there! The reds and the oranges layered together, it looks so light and vibrant. Like you're just wearing a sunset. It can't be that expensive, either. These smaller towns usually sell decent stuff for cheap. And checking the price-tag wouldn't be too b-

Gaaaaah! What is wrong with me!? And what's taking this smith so long! I've been sitting here for the past two hours, maintenance shouldn't take this long! I could do these repairs in my sleep if we had the tools. Ugh...

That's it, I'm finding Caeldori. By the time I come back, they should be ready.

I decide to take the long way around back towards the Inn, if I can't see the market then I can't get the impulse. She should be at the horses' stables, we'll be leaving once the weapons are ready. Subaki's off finding out what he can about the political climate. Running around the continent with no idea about what's going on needs to end sooner or later.

Caeldori was, thankfully, exactly where I expected her to be. Doting on the horses while tying a few packs of gear onto their saddles. Something was different, though.

Her normal Sky-Knight gear had been replaced by a simple brass cuirass, the armor that covered her upper arms was completely missing. It wasn't just that though, her shitagi and hakama were switched out for a new red and blue rider's outfit and a pair of gaiters. She still kept her old sky-knight headband, but…

Before I could even mention it, my daughter already turned around and waved me over. "Hello, Mother." She states nonchalantly, beaming at me with a smile that I hadn't seen since we arrived. "Do you like my new look? It's a bit heavier than what I'm used to, but the armorer said that this was what sky knights wore here."

"Pegasus Knights, dear. We call them Pegasus Knights." I sharply correct, brow furrowing. The resemblance was uncanny, it was honestly freaking me out at this point. She even has the same fashion taste as her, and they haven't even met yet. "How did you even get all of this? Didn't _your_ budget say we only had enough money to get our weapons serviced?"

"Well…" She begun, walking out from it's stall and taking her place at my side. "After you left, I ran into this merchant caravan leaving town. They were having trouble loading their goods, so I offered to help. They decided to give me the chest-piece as a bit of a thank-you gift. The outfit, well… I uh… went into town looking for you and saw this. It looked so nice! So uh… I might've… spent a _little_ bit from our reserve."

I just stand there, rendered speechless for the umpteenth time this week. I had just spent half the day, sitting next to the smithy, near torturing myself trying to not buy anything on impulse, and she went off and did it anyway. I… I'm not even mad. I should be furious, but I can't even be mad. I understand way too much to be mad. It's nice to know we have these little bits in common with each other. It makes me feel… closer to her. Happier.

Still, she can't know that. Not now, at least.

"You know what I'm going to say, right?" I manage out, lifting my hand and pinching the bridge of my nose. Crap, I'm smiling too. Need to cover my mouth.

"I-I'm sorry! I know it was wrong, but I thought it was a good idea!" She begins, stammering out the words as she desperately attempts to explain herself. "When they came after Father and I, it's because they mistook me for someone from Chon'sin, right? So I figured, that if I change my outfit-"

"That they wouldn't be able to tell as easily. Which they wouldn't, if we hadn't left survivors behind to identify us." I said, lifting a hand to cut her off once more. With a deep sigh, I dropped my hand to my hip and turned to look down at the panicking girl. "Next time, ask either your Father or me for permission. Got it?"

She nods quickly, red eyes as wide as saucers. Sure that I've gotten my message across, I go turn around and wave for her to follow me. "Come on, let's go get the weapons. That old moron's _got_ to be done by now."

* * *

Another hour passes, and we've gathered in our room in the Inn one last time before we're setting out. The three of us surround a table, a new map and compass resting atop it. We've already begun to deface it, ink-lines running across different paths as each of us debated which route to take to the harbor. In the end we decided to try and make our way to Rosanne. An old friend of my Mother's had settled down there after the War, a blue haired fop who went on about 'returning to his homeland.' Hopefully, Gerome was there. I'd rather deal with him than his annoyance of a father again.

But that wasn't the interesting part of the discussion, what really caught my interest was the news Subaki had discovered.

"Apparently, a new Emperor's taken seat in Valm Castle." Subaki begun to explain, taking a long sip of tea. "He claims he's the descendant of an old dynasty, someone called the 'Saint-King'."

"Never heard of him." I deadpanned, arms folded across my chest and feet up on the table. "History lessons weren't that much of a focus when I was growing up."

The man sighed, his eyes rolling in displeasure to my blaze attitude towards his information. "He was the first unified ruler of Valm, apparently. Now his 'heir' is claiming a crusade to bring back this old Kingdom. Caeldori, what did you hear the Innkeeper call it?"

"The One Kingdom of Valentia, Father." She answered quickly, her back up straight as she tried to maintain a perfect posture. "He's quite popular with the locals here."

"Not just here." Subaki continued, leaning over and drawing a line across the lower portion of the map. "If what I've heard is true, his goals have the sympathies of people across the continent."

I snorted, shaking my head at such a silly idea. "Not possible. The last time a Valmese monarch tried to 'unify' this place, there was a full-blown rebellion."

He lifted his head, eyeing me curiously. "Really? How do you know that."

"I fought in the War." I answered bluntly. "I was in the throne-room of Valm Castle when the Empress of Chon'sin and my Exalt **sliced his head off**." My voice caught volume near the end, putting emphasis on my final point. "Before that we went from place to place, clearing out his soldiers. The townsfolk were glad they were gone."

"But he had an army, Mother." Caeldori countered. "It seemed to be extremely sizable. Not the size one can muster and sustain from conscription alone. People must have believed in him to some degree."

Grumbling under my breath, I nod to myself. The idea of another psychopath taking Walhart's place didn't ease my mind at all. But she had a point about his Army. They weren't just loyal, they were _fanatics._ Even as we stormed the castle, his guard held his ground to their last breath. Gods… if someone else came to power with that kind of strength…

"We need to get out of here before this whole continent catches fire again." I affirm, drumming a few fingers across my forearm. "We get to Roseanne, resupply, and then we ride like hell for the harbor. Board the first ship headed for Ylisse. From here on out, we avoid fighting. That means we need to avoid looking like anyone hostile to this kingdom."

I cast a gaze over to Caeldori. "Once we're done here, take your father to the armorsmith. Get him a set of leather armor. Then I want you to both take your old clothes and _burn them._ Don't leave any trace that we were here."

Subaki nodded in agreement with my words, finishing his cup of tea and standing to his feet. He was already making his way for the door, stepping outside and moving down the hallway.

As I heard his footsteps drift off into nonexistence, my gaze hardened on Caeldori. When I mentioned burning her clothing, she once again looked at me anxiously. "M-mother. Let's not be hasty now." She begins, stuttering again. This time her tone was different than the stables, however. It reminded me of how she was acting before the fight at the wooden outpost. Tired, fearful, upset at… something. "We can just h-hide our clothes in our bags. There's no need to d-destroy them."

I shake my head. "If we're searched, and they find your old clothes, they'll try to arrest you in a heartbeat. We're not taking that risk. From here on out we need to look like Ylisseans on our way home."

"B-but our weapons will be a dead give-away regardless! They don't appear to have any naginatas in this part of the kingdom! Not native, at the very least!" She continues to protest, voice becoming rather shrill to my eyes. Her hands have started to ball up into small fists in her lap, legs shaking.

I can't deny that she has a point. Even with new clothes, exotic weapons will be a dead giveaway. "Sell them to the local armorsmith, get some spears and a bow for your father. They're good quality weapons, you should be able to get more than enough gold to cover for the replacement purchase."

"That wasn't the po-" She starts, before I rise to my feet and glare down at her.

"Do I sound like I'm leaving this up to debate, Caeldori? Does this sound in any way, shape or form negotiable?" Keeping my voice level, feet planted on the wood below me. I can't afford to have her act disobedient now of all times, not when her life is on the line. "Go do as I told you, and get back here before noontime. We've dawdled enough as it is."

With that, I point towards the door. My eyes continuing to bore down into her as she stares up at me. My daughter, the most important thing to me in the world. She's staring up at me as if I had just run her through with my blade. Mouth agape, eyes wide. Unable to react, unsure how to react.

"I said, **go.** " I repeat once more, raising my voice to a near yell.

This time she doesn't stare. All Caeldori can do is get up to her feet and rush off in retreat. As she moves down the hall, I can hear the beginning of a sob echo down back to me. Could've handled that better, should've handled it better. But what matters is that she's doing it. She can hate me all she wants after we survive this. Just like I hated mine.

She really is turning out to be her mother's daughter.


	4. C-3: War and Peace

The next day we wander into another center of civilization. A proper town by the name of Nellis, twice the size of the village that we had stayed in the night before. Twice as populace as well, trying to ride through the crowded streets was almost as difficult as making a path through Ylisstol during market hours. The people seemed rather prosperous and content, buildings and stalls dotted next to a well kept roadway.

Everywhere we looked we would see the same foreboding banners. Waving atop flagpoles, draped over walls, strung across balconies. A golden dragon emblazoned in front of a green backdrop. Alongside them, squadrons of spearmen marched down the streets in clear formation. Each of them toting a battle standard with the same gold and green creature. The locals showered them with praise, well wishes and gifts.

They were preparing for something, probably some kind of offensive. And there was only one place they could reasonably be targeting.

"Perhaps we should continue past here." Subaki commented as he rode in tandem with me, our horses trotting along in near perfect sync. "There's bound to be another town or village that we can rest in. I wouldn't mind another night in the stars."

His new outfit suited him rather nicely. A hardened leather chestpiece and shoulderpads covering a simple smock underneath. A new longbow rested slung across his back, along with a quiver full of arrows. He had kept his Hoshidan hakama and kutsu against my protests, along with his pike. It was an act of defiance that even inspired Caeldori to fasten her Hoshidan spaulders to her new set of Knight armor. I had already blown my top at both of them on the road, but Subaki had stood his ground. Stating bluntly that he didn't want to abandon all pretense of his home.

Caeldori clearly shared his point of view, but she also refused to come near me during this entire leg of the trip. For now she was riding behind us, her eyes boring a hole into the back of my head from a distance.

"No. No more bugs, no more hunting." I refused, eyeing another group of 'Valentian' soldiers as they marched on past us. "I want a real meal and a real bed. I'm not like Niles or Hinata, I can't spend days on end sleeping like an animal."

"If either of them were here to hear that, I think they'd be rather hurt." He answered, smirking from the corner of his mouth as he also continued his surveillance.

"Hinata would just go pout in a corner for half an hour, then forget about it." I wave a hand dismissively in his direction. "Niles wouldn't have the right to complain anyway, not with how he of all people acts."

"You and I both know he would complain anyway."

"...Good point." I concede, blowing some air from my nose as we round a corner into the next street. "Either way, we're only half a day's ride from the border with Roseanne. We might as well relax a night before we finally get out of the woods."

"Hrm." The man stroked his chin, contemplating something as some children dodged in between our horses. One of them almost ran into my sword, the numbskulls. "Well. We do have the money for some beds and a decent meal. Even accounting for Caeldori's desire for separate accommodations."

I grumbled in acknowledgement to his statement, my mind doing the mental math. Well, trying to do the math. Biting down on the side of my cheek, I keep running through the last conversation I had with the girl. Trying to be heavy handed with her backfired horribly, it turned out she could be every bit as spiteful as I could when I was her age. But… ugh. Damn it, why was this so hard!? I try to be kind, she weasels away from me. I put my foot down, she pushes against me just as hard. She doesn't seem to react well with anything I do with her at all. And it's getting so damn frustrating…

"How long do you think it'll be until she'll speak to me again?" I call, checking behind us from the corner of my eye. Yep, still glaring at me.

Once again he strokes his chin, though this time an amused grin had taken hold of his face. "I'd say tomorrow morning. Whatever you told her set her off. She reminded me of _you_ when Peri beat you in that cooking contest."

I quickly raised up a hand. "Don't even start with that. She had to have been cheating. No way that maniac could cook that well. Where _did_ she even learn that?"

"Anywhere, I suppose. Where did you learn to cook?"

"I was the only person in our camp who didn't burn everything they touched." I answer with a droll tone. It was sad how true that statement was, back before we had crossed over to our parents' time basically every person in the camp was incapable of preparing a half-decent meal. Laurent and I were forced to learn out of pure desperation.

The former sky knight chortles at my simple explanation. "Regardless. Give her time. She doesn't hate you, Selena. She's merely upset. Last I checked you didn't have the perfect relationship with your mother either."

I groan in despair. "Why in the world do you think I'm trying so hard? It took me _traveling time_ to be able to salvage my relationship with her. I'm trying to make sure she doesn't end up in a similar situation."

Gods know I had enough regrets with my own relationship, the last thing I need is to put her through the same mess.

* * *

As the sun begun to crest below the horizon, I made my way to the town square once more. A large gathering of people was assembling in front of a stage, even more Valentian banners fluttering above the crowd. Families and loners intermingled alike, cheering proudly as a group of soldiers took their positions at the front of the stage. It was like a wave of people, cheering and chanting as their beloved heroes formed up in front of them.

"Still say it's impossible, Mother?" Caeldori comments in a dry tone, arms folded over her chest as she glared forwards at the stage. Against her wishes, I had dragged her along with me. Going to this assembly on my own didn't seem like it was the smartest play.

"I don't know, Caeldori. Are you _really_ glad I'm wrong?" I question, hands on my hips as a man nudges into me walking past.

"Your being wrong isn't much of a surprise." She answers, cool and level. My eyebrow twitches slightly in frustration, trying to resist the urge to grab her arm and drag her back to the Inn. Disobedient, snide little runt… I'm starting to get really fed-up with her passive-aggressive nonsense. Upset or not, I deserve at least a bit of respect. Especially when all I do is look out for her well-being.

Regaining my posture, we continue to stare forwards as another squadron of soldiers moves past. "All of this because I said we should keep a low profile? Or is that problem you're hiding from me finally rearing its head?"

"I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about, Mother."

I sigh, shaking my head in disappointment. "Just… fine. Hate me if you want. See if I care."

That stemmed a small reaction from her, her eyes quickly shifting to look at me before shooting back towards the stagefront once more.

"I didn't want to come with you and Father." Caeldori finally admitted in a small voice, tone cracking sharply as she finished her sentence. Her entire posture relaxed at once, shoulders drooping, as if the largest burden in the world was finally lifted off of her shoulders. Her entire form just seemed to lighten up, back straightening and eyes lighting up. "I wanted to stay, with both of you."

Those words all rush into me as if they were a freight-train. Every muscle in my body tenses up at once, spine going rigid and hairs standing up along my head. I was right with my fears, but I had them pegged on the wrong person. I finally turn my body, facing the younger redhead. "Why didn't you say something?" I demanded, arms hanging limply by my side. "Out of all the things you could have hid from me, Caeldori, why hide something this important!?"

"Would it really have mattered?" She countered, voice still cracking as her demeanor grew more and more somber. "You were hell-bent on coming back here, Mother. Do you truly think anything I said would have stopped you?"

"Th-that isn't the point!" I stammer out, face going tomato red. Would I have even listened to her if she had confronted me? Or was she merely delaying an inevitable clash? "Damn it, do you really think I'm cruel enough to not even listen to my own child!?"

"No, I don't. You're a good person, Mother. You're kind to people even though you don't like to show it, and you'd never try to hurt anyone unless you were forced." She explained, her fists starting to clench as she forced her words out. "But you're also extremely, _extremely_ selfish. When you want something badly, you often stop at nothing to get it. How should I have known that I would be the exception if I told you my qualms?"

I take in a deep breath, trying to come up with some kind of answer. I want to tell her she's wrong. Of course I would have conceded to her if she had just told her something. I could never force her to come with us. The guilt would tear me apart, knowing I had forced her to abandon her home without a say in the matter. It's what any parent should say, how any parent would should _feel._

But I can't. Because I know in my gut that she's right. If she had told me, I would've left regardless. If Subaki had refused, I would have left regardless. I hate it, but it's the undeniable truth. I would have abandoned my daughter.

And that truth burns me alive from the inside out.

She raises an arm to point ahead of us, finger aimed at a mother and daughter. The young girl sitting in her mother's arms with an apple and a smile. Both look so happy together, enjoying every moment they share. "When I was in the Deeprealms, I… _dreamed_ of the day I would finally be able to have those moments with you. Not just sporadic visits and talks that lasted a few hours, but to actually be a family. Waking up knowing I would see you and Father. Not fearing that you would never come back for me."

Her arm drops, and my heart continues to crawl up into my throat. "I wish I never had to leave Hoshido to have that chance. But I knew if I stayed, I'd lose it forever. I had to choose, and I choose you."

Inhaling carefully to steady my breath, I keep my view on the other pair. They both looked so… idyllic together. Something we truly never had a chance to have. With the War happening, she was forced into a world of violence. Just like I was when Father and Mother died. I barely have the right to call myself her mother, I haven't raised her at all. "...I've failed you. I really have failed you."

"No. You haven't." Caeldori quickly corrects, firm and assured. "You weren't from our world, and I doubt you expected to even have me. I know I'm a victim of circumstance. Not malice." She cracks a small, soft smile. "Like I said mother, you're kinder then you let yourself believe. I know you care for me dearly." She chuckles at the end, her smile growing evermore. "Even if you're not the best at showing it."

"Regardless. I promise you that I'll make sure you're happy here." I state with absolution. Yeah… I'll make sure she's happy here. No matter what I have to do, I'll make her choice worth-while.

" **Attention, all!"** A voice booms from the front, the town crier yelling out to those in the front. **"General Maddox will now begin his address!"**

With that, we both face forwards. We've been standing here this long, no reason to not miss the show we came for.

* * *

A tall, well armored man stood center stage. Armed with a long pike, his white beard contrasting against his blackened skin. Each of his eyes were like white pearls against a coal backdrop. His armor clearly signified his rank, large and thick with green and gold painted across in intricate tree-like patterns. Maddox looked like a proud man, one who didn't seem ready to let his age stop him from continuing as planned.

 **"Citizens of Nellis!"** He called out in a booming voice, lifting a hand to calm the crowd in front of him. **"Proud people of Valm! You honor my men and I with your loyalty and support! We, who are about to march, salute you all!"**

A deafening torrent of cheers answered the man. Every man, woman and child around us applauding and crying out. There must be at least two-hundred people here. Maybe even more watching from the buildings surrounding us. As some semblance of silence returned, the man continued. **"Today marks a grand day in our Kingdom's history! For years now, the Dynasts have chosen to abuse their power! We had overthrown one abusive conqueror, only for him to be replaced by lazy and selfish pedants! Nobles who care only for the filling of their stomachs, the lining of their pockets! Not you! Not your families! Not their people! But I say no more, WE SAY NO MORE!"**

Another set of cheers, another pause before continuing. **"For the good of Valm! Nay, for the good of Valentia! We must reunite! We must cast off the shackles of the Dynasts, and bring back the ways of true unification! King Albien has promised us this! And together, we will make this a reality!"**

As the crowd once again lost itself to it's cheering and madness, Caeldori mutters something as quietly as she could to me. "Say what you will, he certainly knows how to play a crowd."

I nod in agreement, brow furrowing as I try to make heads or tails of this situation. To be honest, I can't say I'm very surprised. Queen Say'ri often said that the older rulers before Walhart were self-serving. The fact that they fell back on old habits didn't exactly surprise me. "What's your take. You think he's believing what he's saying?" I ask.

"Either that, or he's a far better actor than either of us." She replies, tutting. "Regardless if he speaks the truth or not, the people certainly believe him."

" **In three weeks time, we mark a new chronicle in Valentian history!"** The man continued. **"The old rulers have been given their warning! They could have joined our glorious crusade! To make Valentia whole with a dove and an olive branch! But they refuse! Desperately clinging to power like the rats they are! 'Duke' Viron of Roseanne! 'Count' Mathias of Brisbonne! 'Baroness' Sheva of Shurima!** _ **'Queen'**_ **Say'ri of Chon'sin! They choose to stand against our mighty cause!"**

Boos and jeers took the place of cheering this time, the crowd throwing ugly slurs and threats at the mention of the various dynasts. Accusations of treason and heresy. Rage and anger that only a mob could generate. "This is going to get rather ugly." Caeldori noted, lifting a hand to tug at my sleeve. "Maybe we should leave."

I shake my head almost immediately. "No, no. Let's find out everything we can."

" **But it matters not! Our cause is just, and our Army prepared! We shall march north, and liberate Valentia! Town by town, city by city! We will not rest until OUR PEOPLE ARE FREE!"** Again, cheers take hold of the crowd, but this time the man lifts his hand to calm them down preemptively.

" **But our task does not end with Valentia, brothers and sisters."** He continued, his booming voice becoming dark and gravely. Dread seemed to fill the air as he spoke. Like a Priest addressing the crowd of a funeral. **"By Naga's will, our mission continues across the sea."**

I can feel myself pale as he utters the words. Across the sea!? Are they really, REALLY going to try and take over my home again!?

" **We all know what occurred in Plegia, over five years ago from this day."** The General went on, the air deathly silent. **"The Fell Dragon returned, and with him a plague of misery and death. Risen, unholy creatures of reanimation came to our world to do his evil. Even here, in Valm, how many of our people suffered? How much did we lose? And so soon after the fall of Walhart as well! What was supposed to be a time of healing devolved into a period of chaos! And answer me, brothers and sisters! Who is to blame for our folly!?"**

" **The Grimeal!"** The crowd shouted back in one, unified voice. Echoes of a uniform suffering emanating from their very words. Lovers holding themselves close. Parents shielding their children. Old men and women muttering old prayers to Divine Dragons. The entire tone of the rally changed, it's terrifying. Even Caeldori's gone completely pale, her natural empathy soaking in all the emotion around her.

" **The Grimeal! Those villainous servants to the Fell Dragon! Traitors to our species! Traitors to our world!"** Maddox shouted out, his previous joy and uplifting spirit replaced with a deep and fervent hatred. **"They dared to bring us the apocalypse for their demented God! Heresy against both Naga and her Voice! These dastards wished to end everything we hold near and dear! I say this, will we let them get away with such an unforgivable crime!?"**

" **NO!"** The crowd screeched back, the tension bordering that of a revolt in the making.

" **No! We will not! We will purge these heretics from the face of the earth ONCE AND FOR ALL!"** Again the gathering erupted into applause and chants, but this time the man didn't stop. **"We will cross the sea and march to Plegia! We will cull any and all of Grima's remaining faithful, and CLEANSE THIS WORLD OF THEIR HERETICAL FILTH!"** The onlookers somehow continued to increase in volume, their words driving them into a frenzy. **"And not just them! We will find the spawn of Grima, these 'Fellblood'! The unholy children of the Fell Dragon's vessel! We will ensure this travesty will never, EVER OCCUR ONCE MORE! FOR THE GLORY OF THE KING! FOR THE GLORY OF VALENTIA!"**

No. No, no, no no no no no no.

This can't be happening. This CAN'T be happening!

Not after all we fought for. Not after finally killing Grima once and for all! Not after everything we had to sacrifice. Just to suffer another damn invasion!? Why!? Why in the world can't people just let things lie! Why is it that even after we finally WIN, we find these new stupid reasons to just ruin everything we gain!

"-ther. -other. Mother!" I finally hear, feeling myself being dragged along through the crowd as my gaze remains fixed on the enigmatic General as he waves and cheers alongside the crowd. Caeldori finally decided to remove us from the scene, and I struggle to find the words to thank her. This can't be happening. Not again, not again…

Father, please. Your death was supposed to make this all end.


	5. C-4: The Interview

There's plenty of ways a girl would love to spend her time with her family.

Resting at home, eating a nice meal, going off on a vacation. Maybe even visiting those hot-springs again. It was amazing to have such a beautiful, warm place nestled atop a frozen mountain peak. Everyone seemed to enjoy themselves endlessly when we were there. Even Lucina let her hair down and acted like a normal girl for once. I still remember the conversation we had, talking about how… testy I had gotten. It was nice to be surrounded by friends and family, just having a blast.

Or maybe that time we all went to that beach. An entire day just resting in the sun, swimming in the ocean and chowing down on decent food. So calm and relaxing, and such a nice view... oh Gods, now I'm thinking of Subaki in a swimsuit. Hair down and flowing, abs soaked by the sea. 'Why yes, dear, I'd love to take a break in the hammock...'

Gah! No! No, day dreaming! Bad, bad!... wait, why is that bad? I'm married to the man, I basically own his abs anyway!

Ugh... that'd be so nice.

Well, at least I'm still surrounded by family. Trying to sneak out of a town full of militantly religious zealots, though. _Not_ high on my list of things I wanted to do before I ate it. It's because of people like this that I never went to church often as a kid.

That, and Grima burning down all of the churches.

After that insane war-rally, we all decided that we needed to plan how we were going to get to Roseanne. Soldiers were stationed all over the town, clearly on the watch for spies and scouts. Anyone going north was either stopped or checked for papers. Even trading caravans were turned around and refused permission to return to their point of origin. The Army here was turning the region into a proper staging ground.

Once again sitting around a round-table in our room, we had a large swath of papers laid out in front of us. Propaganda and recruiting posters for this new 'One Kingdom.' Subaki's reconnaissance of how many troops he thought were currently stationed in the area. A logbook of rumors we had overheard while listening in on the townsfolk. We had purchased yet another map, marking the checkpoints and patrol patterns as we saw them.

"This is hopeless!" I groaned out, slouching back into my chair and throwing my hands up in exasperation. Hours of combing through all of our notes, and I can't think of a single way through the blockade. "They have eyes everywhere! And probably even more patrols we don't even know about!"

"An impressive layout to say the least." Subaki muses, drawing yet another set of lines on the map to mark another patrol route. "Each of these sections seems set up to intersect with one another. Clear lines of view intersecting with each sentry post. If one patrol doesn't meet another rotation on their path, they know something is wrong. Plus with the distance between the stationary sentries, they could raise an alarm in less than a minute."

"Taking out the guards quietly isn't an option." Caeldori mutters in annoyed agreement, flipping through her book of notes as she tried to make heads and tails of the whole situation. Even her brilliant mind seemed to be unable to parse a clear solution from this mess we're stuck in. "We could try breaking through one of the weaker checkpoints. But…" Before she even finishes, she shakes her head and lets the sentence trail off into nothingness.

She didn't even need to explain why that wouldn't end well. I could already imagine having to dodge volleys of flaming arrows while riding off. We'd be dead before we even made it half-way to the treeline.

"We could try and head south." I pondered, dragging a hand across my face as I tried to rouse myself up into a more alert state. "Find the old Zofian Harbor, charter a boat there." Again, I groan in frustration as I pick apart my own idea. If we tried that, it would be another few weeks of travel all the way down to the southern edge of the whole damn continent. We barely had enough coin to pay for the room in this in, a longer journey and we'd either starve or end up having to raid more caravans.

I've done plenty of questionable stuff in my life, but turning brigand isn't a line I'm keen to cross.

"Regardless, we need to warn this Duke of what's coming." Subaki counters, setting his quill down and capping the ink-bottle. The red haired man lifts his hands up, undoing the binding for his hair and letting it fall loose as he tries to readjust it. I really need to give the man a haircut, he's starting to look like a wild bear. "He may be unaware of these happenings."

"I agree with Father. It would be rather poor form to leave him to the mercy of such a… 'motivated' foe." Caeldori follows up, head bobbing in agreement. Still, her nose was stuck in her notes as she continues to try and discover some kind of plan.

My brow furrows as I looked over the two, snark acting before my brain does. "You're kidding me, right? You want to risk your necks for that blue-haired sleazeball?"

"He's the father of your friend, is he not?" Subaki replies, holding his hair back up and preparing to retie the knot. "I would suppose that would be reason enough to assist him."

Once more, our daughter nods, closing her notebook and resting it in her lap. Again with that perfect posture, how does she do that? Keeping her back that straight all the time seems almost inhuman. Meanwhile I'm laying over like some kind of slob on the table. Pull your legs up and sit up straight yourself, you weirdo. "And even if he wasn't, leaving him to fend for himself would be shameful. He was one of Grandmother's companions, yes?"

"If by 'companion' you mean he wanted to bed her, then yes." I clarify in an unamused, annoyed voice. My eyes rolled out of reflex as I thought back to what I knew about the infamous archer.

Viron was a lot of things. Shameless flirt, capable liar, a storybook definition of a rogue, and an all around clever dastard. But still, sitting through that speech, I felt my stomach turn when they mentioned him and Say'ri. During the liberation of Roseanne, I saw how he looked at the landscape. When people recognized him, they called him a traitor and a coward. On the surface he appeared aloof and brushed it off, but… underneath that, there was something broken at his core.

Mother always told me that those who appear the happiest almost always seemed to hide the greatest sadness. When I saw him flirting with mother during a private meeting, accused him of being a useless manw-... 'casanova'. But she said to think nothing of it. Both her and Father saw him as a very, very close friend. After she told me to look deeper at his actions, I started noticing a pattern. His laughter, his jokes, his shameless demeanor. It was all so _practiced._ As if he was making an actual effort to act like a philandering idiot. But once you noticed that, the act fell apart so quickly. Every one of his motions just looked so forced, as if he was putting on a stage play to hide himself from the world.

'When your world collapses itself around you, often times you make masks to cope with that destruction. Viron has his masks. I have mine. And you, my dear, most definitely have yours.'

One of the lessons Mother taught me here. And even though I never admitted it, she wasn't wrong. When we first met, I acted cold and harsh to protect myself from her. She always acted prim and proper to protect herself from her isolation. Viron seemed to try and protect himself from his failures.

I take in a breath, finally nodding along with the idea. "He's a raunchy old man, but he's not the despot that General painted him as." I admit to the two in front of me. "Roseanne means everything to him. The idea of 'Despot' Viron sounds almost as stupid as a 'Despot' Xander."

"Then it's settled." Subaki affirms, finishing up the knot and letting his ponytail pop up freely. "We give him what assistance we can, then continue onward to the main harbor."

"That still means we need to find a way east." I remind him, pulling the man towards me and clearly showing the encirclement of the town. "Trying to go around isn't an option, going through the forests is asking for us to get lost. Besides, we'd have to ditch the horses and our supplies."

"We could try smuggling ourselves out." Caeldori chimes, pulling out the small bag of gold coins we still have in our possession. "By my count we still have about three hundred gold marks. I'm sure purchasing passage on a pre-approved cart wouldn't be very difficult."

Again, I shake my head. Gods, this was getting overly complicated. "One, with the way people are in this area I'm sure they'd just take the money and turn us over. Two, even if we could, they're going to search the wagon again as it passes through the checkpoint. Three, _we still lose our supplies._ "

The girl's shoulders deflate in defeat, shamefully slipping the bag of coins back into her rucksack.

"...What if we tried this?"

As I look to Subaki, I see the man holding up one of the posters we had gathered from around town. Specifically a recruitment poster, one calling for able men and women to enlist into the local regiment being raised for the Valentian Army. The crest of the One Kingdom was clearly posted on the front, along with details and instructions on who to find and how to proceed. Pay rates as well, they seemed higher than what we offered back in Ylisse.

Wait, what the hell am I thinking!? Did he just suggest we join the enemy army!?

Flabbergasted, my eyes rush back and forth between the paper and his face. Finally, I stammer out what the first question that rolls out of my head. "Did you smash your head against something, flyboy!?"

"Every army needs Mercenaries." He calmly points out. "Especially three well equipped, highly skilled mercenaries. One of them being experienced Sky Knight? I'd imagine pegasus riders are always in higher demand here due to the uh… limitations of your native breed."

"We could offer to act as forward scouts." Caeldori states, continuing her father's train of thought as her face lights up at the idea. Glee began to spread across her very being at the mention of riding a pegasus was brought to her ears. A near aura of joy started to radiate out from her.

Damn it Subaki, you knew this was how she'd react to flying again. Clever little weasel.

"We don't even know if they'd give her a mount..." I point out, groaning as I pinch the bridge of my nose. Still, it's an idea. The only idea we have that isn't almost guaranteed to fail. "OK… let's say we… _theoretically_ , decide to do this." I begin, seeing Caeldori's smile grow ever larger from the corner of my eye. "We'll say we're from Regina Ferox. That's a Kingdom on another continent, by the way. Find the recruitment officer and request a contract. _Somehow_ we're given one. What's our next step?"

"Well… in Hoshido, mercenaries were often given a greater degree of independence than our Royal troops. Often times they scouted ahead of their own volition." The man shrugs, finishing his thought.

Scratching my head, I started to see the logic in his statements. Mercs usually hated taking orders beyond being pointed towards something to kill, so paying them and letting them go wild wasn't that uncommon here as well. Especially when it came to Feroxi doctrine, they still acted like their barbarian ancestors whenever wartime came rolling around. Looting, partying, breaking everything…

Smirking, I stand up to my feet and look over my two companions. I always was a good actor, tricking Lucina and Cynthia as a kid was easy pickings. What's a few meathead soldiers to a pair of Princesses? "Well alright then. Let's play soldier."

Here I thought after Valla, I'd never have to say those words again for the rest of my life. Funny how fate works.

* * *

The next day, we're walking into the lion's den without a single weapon.

Nellis' town hall had been 'donated' to the Army to be used as it's headquarters. The humble house had been completely re-decorated to look like it had always been used for this purpose. Banners, weapon racks, maps, muster charts, rosters. Adjutants and Command Staff rushed too and fro through the building, carrying scrolls and books stacked in tall towers. Every single pore of the building seemed to be alive and bustling with movement.

Subaki, Caeldori and I marched in a straight line behind our liaison. A tall, slender woman named Beril with both a sword on her hip and a rather intimidating war-axe strapped to her back. Her green hair is cut down to a very masculine crew cut, it makes my twin-tails look almost dainty in comparison. I guess some people can't handle fighting a battle and looking amazing while they do it.

"The One Kingdom's Army is always looking for talent." She continues on from before, turning her head towards us. Her entire form looked so regal. Blue eyes that seemed soft and and untouched. Her face forms a perfect, edgeless circle that looks so unaccustomed to combat. Not a single scar or scratch was present on her chocolate colored skin. Her green-accented armor seems to be new and polished, covering her almost entirely from her neck down. "And Ferox basically exports talent."

Grinning, I jerk a thumb up to myself as we kept moving down the hallway. "Of course they do, I'm the best swords-woman this side of West Ferox." Finally, I get to brag and it's a _good_ thing. Keeping it bottled up this long was gonna drive me stir crazy. "There isn't another merc alive who could beat me in a fight."

"Except I've beaten you in every one of our spars." Subaki interjects from behind me, my grin shattering as Caeldori sniggers in the rear. I quickly jab my elbow back, hearing the idiot suck in a breath right as I make contact.

"Excuse my partner, he has delusions of grandeur." I quickly answer, not dropping the pace as we reached the back of the building. Beril gave me an odd look, but paid no mind as she continued to march us into the rear room. Subaki stumbled behind a bit, clearly avoiding my striking distance for the rest of the walk. Good, he'll have even more to deal with once we're back at the Inn for embarrassing me.

Very quickly, it reminds me of the old Shepard War room. Pieces of armor and weapons strewn about in an odd sense of controlled chaos. Maps, charts and papers all lit up by oil-lamps and candles. A Valentian banner stretched across the very back wall, right above a barred window. At the table sat a pair of mages on each side, neither even lifting their heads to check upon who had made their way into this hidden alcove.

But at the center of the table sat the real deal. The same massive monolith of a man who had called for a new crusade just yesterday. The charcoal skinned general, eyes directed ever forwards at the four of us as we file into the room. Still clad in his ornate armor, as if it was a second skin over his body. Maddox was even more imposing up close. As we formed a line in front of him, my lungs collapse into a pile of mush. My heartbeat skyrockets as the words from his speech echo in my head for the umpteenth time since.

This is bad. This is really, really, _really bad._

"Uncle." Beril says with a smile, bowing towards the man before moving to the far side of our three-man formation. "The mercenaries I sent word of. They seem eager to offer their services to our great cause."

Keep calm. _Keep calm_. Don't look him in the eye, just keep staring forwards. Arms held behind your back, poise fixed and forwards. Be the perfect soldier, emulate Mother. Emulate Subaki and Caeldori.

"Not everyday a group of Feroxi sellswords arrive on my doorstep." Maddox grumbles in a earth-shaking voice, deeper than the dirt this building is even laid upon. Now that I'm closer, I can make out even more features from the corner of my eye. I never thought I'd see a man with more scars than Khan Basilio. Lines of burned, slashed and healed skin covered his face. Risen claws, blade strikes, firebombs. Just by looking at this man, he seemed unkillable compared to is fresh and free niece. "The best soldiers on that side of the planet, if my memory of the war is still intact.

His metal-gloved fingers drum on the wood surface of the table, each point of contact striking like a hammer against bone. "I'll make this blunt. A few wandering mercenaries asking for a job doesn't surprise me." He states, pressing both hands to the table as he pushes himself up to his feet. It feels like he pushed the entire world down instead, with how massive his arms appeared to be. "But why would a group from the Barbarian kingdom be here, of all places? A man my age learns to not believe in coincidences. Especially when something offered to him is… seemingly too good to be true."

I need to sell this before we end up losing our chance.

I break posture, again folding my arms across my chest and scowling at the titan of a man. Gods, he looks like he could snap me in half with his bare hands. Just… focus. You've dealt with way worse than this washed up old coot can throw at you.

"Look, General… Maddox?" I turn to face Beril once more, cocking my brow. "His name's Maddox, right?"

She nods, smile slowly fading as I fall into my usual non-chalant self. This time I face the man head on, my own eyes boring forwards to meet his own. Naga, he must be twice my height. "We've been stuck on this boring rock for the past year now. Ever since the End War, well, **ended** , things have been _way_ too boring in Ferox. Like, seriously. The risen are gone, the Grimeal are on the run. Everyone's too wounded or tired to have a brawl. There's no action! And even worse, no one's hiring! So we hitched a ride here and planned to make some coin. Figured that some sucker would need a few bodyguards."

"Do I appear to be a 'sucker' to you, young one?" Maddox questions, his hand freezing as I finish my explanation. "Do I. of all people, appear to require bodyguards? No, I need warriors. Experienced and skilled, not a red haired girl who speaks loudly and brashly. You've yet to even show if your skill matches your mouth." He replies back, my world rumbling once again as he spoke.

I just shrug at him, staying aloof as he tried to call my ability into question. Just like when I sparred with Hinata or Inigo. "OK then. Point me at the best sword-slinger you have, I'll break'em in two." I challenge, feeling a wicked grin spread across my face. How long had it been since I had an honest-to-goodness spar? Having my own little punching bag for a round in the ring would be like a mini-vacation at this point.

Imagining it now, it'll be so... cathartic.

That answer prompts a smile from the man. He expected me to say that, didn't he? Good, living up to the stereotype was good. The General adjusts his gaze to his right. "Hear that, Beril? You have a challenger."

"Wait, her?" I answer, sizing the woman up once more. Really, she's the best fighter he has? I've seen cannon fodder more intimidating then this princess pretending to be a soldier. "She looks green as grass, and that's not even counting the armor."

My apparent opponent clicked her tongue, hand resting on the top of her sword. "Looks can be deceiving, barbarian."

"Really? Because you all looked the same during the last war, and we kicked your arses all the way back to Valm Castle. But let me guess, girly. You weren't even in the last war, were you? You were sitting pretty on some stool in your Capitol!" I shoot back, jutting a finger at the lady in question. As I take a step towards her, I can feel a hand firmly grab my shoulder and drag me back. Damn it, Subaki. I'm trying to chew this brat out!

"I assume we'll also be tested in our abilities, General?" He questions quickly, his grip pinning me in place as Beril and I stare daggers at each other. Maddox says something in response, but I can't make it out. My entire mind's focused on this weasel before me. I've dealt with brats like this my entire life. Silver-spoon raised idiots who never had to earn anything in their life. Just coasting by on their family's money or their status. Like Peri, or Setsuna. Except unlike them, I bet she doesn't have the bark to back up what she can do.

I'm gonna enjoy making her cry. All I need is the chance to just…

Another squeeze of my shoulder, enough to make me whip around and growl at the man behind me. "What is it!?"

"We're being addressed." Subaki pointed out, turning me around to face the very unamused General. I realize that during this entire affair, my hands have been stuck like this over my chest. Gawds, I must look ridiculous.

"Your group will accompany Beril and her platoon on a scouting expedition northwards. You will report on Roseanne's defenses, and what manpower you find." He explains, sitting himself back down and resting both hands on the table. He pushed a rolled up chart to the side, letting Beril pick it up from the oak surface. "Consider this your evaluation. If my Niece deems you unfit, then I deem you unfit. Questions?"

Great. We're gonna be stuck in the woods with twenty other morons and Miss Priss. Group camping sucked already with people I _liked,_ now I need to share tents with these zealots. Still, it's even terms. Plus... I'll get a chance to knock her block off when we make a break for Roseanne itself. "We're getting paid in the meantime?" I ask with finality, hoping that I'm acting like a proper killer for hire.

The man grunts in the affirmative. With one last glare at my new 'Commander', I nod in agreement.

"We're at your disposal, Sir." I lie through my teeth.


	6. C-5: Acts of Gods

When most people say platoon, you would expect a smaller number of soldiers. Twenty or so men, right? A group of scouts, probably well experienced in their field. Older men and women, lightly armed and armored. Quality over quantity is what you want in your advance force, that was the entire point of the Shepherds when we acted with the rest of the Ylissean Army.

So why in the hell am I in a camp with fifty newbies?

I couldn't believe my eyes when the group was assembled back in Nellis. Baby-faced, all of them. Each wearing little more than a light set of leather armor and a simple iron sword. Shoulder to shoulder with iron shields, backs straight, feet pressed together. Each staring forwards with an unwavering gaze. Beril beamed with pride as she stood in front of them. When Subaki asked her about their ability, she said that they were each the best soldiers from their varying training cadres. Each one chosen to be part of her own personal strike-force.

They marched here in perfect unison. None of them complained as each one of them carried their own supplies on their backs. I never heard them say a peep unless they were spoken to. It had an odd… chill.

They felt, looked, and acted like they were elite soldiers. And yeah, each of them had the potential to be great down the line. But now? Outside of formations and marches? They had a lot of cracks.

The first problem is obvious. During spars that evening, I watch pairs of these so-called 'Stormtroopers' go at one another. Each of them fights with the same doctrine, overagression. First they rush forward at their opponent, then throw a flurry of slashes at the torso. Up, down, up, down. Classic Astra form. The force behind each strike is lessened, then made for by the increase in the _amount_ of strikes. The intent is to knock the opponent off balance and slip the blade into their ribs.

It's not a bad tactic at all, but it's also not a good one to rely on solely. These idiots tire themselves out before the first minute of a duel even passes.

The second problem is even worse. Caeldori volunteers to spar against another boy, about her age and a bit taller than her. The spar begins the same as the others, a rushing attack followed Astra technique. But then, midway through his _oh so righteous fury_ , Caeldori slips her naginata between his strikes, whips her blade to the right, and sends the sword flying out of his hands and right into the trunk of a nearby tree. Before the runt can even react, she's already introduced the blunt-end of her staff right to his… 'family jewels'. And this scenario repeats itself. Not, once, no. Not twice. _Six times._ Boy or girl, tall or short, young or old. Each of them can't even handle a basic counter-attack.

Then there's the kicker. I step in afterwards to take Caeldori's place, draw my sword, then get one of them into the ring with me. When the bell rings, I'm the one to make the first strike. I run forwards, then kick off towards the guy. A simple, one handed trust with my sword that Lucina taught me a long time ago. I'm telegraphing my attacks, too. Hell I'm not even rushing him. This should be easy to sidestep, right?

Wrong! If it wasn't for the shield on his shoulder, my blade would've gone through his heart. He even falls on his flat on his arse afterwards. At that point I just spin around and kick him in the back of the head. He's out cold before he even hits the ground.

"Your men are worthless." I inform Beril as we stand at the edge of camp, looking out across the river at the borderlands of Roseanne. A river marks the natural border between the Duchy and Valentian territory. Being stuck here with Miss Priss is the last thing I want, but until we get a clear shot to make a run for it, I need to at least pretend that I'm loyal. At least I've got an apple to munch on, it takes my mind off of my company.

The woman scoffs as she continues to look through her binoculars, focusing on a group of people I can't really make out in the far distance. "My dear sellsword, you really think you can determine that from a few spars?" She asks, clearly intending to brush my comment to the side.

Ugh… _this_ is why I can't stand silver-spoons. Too proud to even take any advice… yes, I know that's hypocritical, **me**. Stop contradicting yourself in your head.

"That, and how they act." I continue, polishing my apple with my sleeve before looking into my reflection. Gods, it's been weeks since I've been able to do my hair properly. I need some shampoo. And a proper brush. And maybe a bit of dye? I wouldn't mind going back to my old hair-color... Y'know what, I'm asking Viron if he has some sort of royal hairdresser. With all the help I'm gonna give him, he owes me. "The fact that they're horrible in a duel aside, have you ever watched them?"

I raise my free hand, lifting a finger as I list off each point. "If they aren't in formation, they bumble around like kids. None of them know how to start a fire, Subaki had to teach them that. Caeldori had to explain to them what 'cresting' meant when they were trying to survey from that hill a ways back. I had to show them how to set up their tents without using the trees as a base-pole. They can't cook for their lives, basically everyone's living off of dried rations. Only four of them know anything about hunting, and that's from past experience."

My glorious commander lowered her binoculars, looking at me with unveiled confusion. "We brought enough rations to last us this whole mission, why would we need to hunt?"

"Animals draw attention to things that aren't supposed to be there. Like, I dunno, a fifty-odd man war party clearly scouting ahead for a larger force?" My voice is laced with sarcasm as I reply, unable to believe the question. Gods, she's going to get all of her men killed. I almost feel bad for the suckers.

Beril, at my surprise, seems to take it to heart. As I take my first bite out of my apple, she lifts her binoculars back to her eyes and continues to scan the town's outskirts. "For a commoner, you have wisdom. Reminds me of my uncle in a way, even if you are but a child."

Rolling my eyes, I swallow down my food quickly. "I'm twenty-five, you numbskull." I answer before chomping down another bite of the red fruit.

It's still hard to digest that it's been five years since I left for Valla. _Seven_ since we all fled back through time with Naga's help.

It's weird… I should feel like I'm an adult by now. I'm married, I have a kid. I've survived **five wars.** I've traveled through time, warped to different realms. I've been a survivor, a soldier, a retainer, and now a mercenary.

Yet the world still makes me feel so insignificant.

Another bite, another swallow. "You have a lot to learn, Miss Priss. Being a noble doesn't mean you know what you're doing."

"Mind your tone, mercenary." She shot back, glaring at me from the corner of her eye.

Oh, getting under your skin am I? Well now I _have_ to keep bothering you, it's only fair of me.

"I'm just saying. You don't want to disappoint your dear uncle now, do you?" I ask with the smuggest grin I can muster. If I can't beat her to a pulp, I may as well make her suffer another way.

"What are you getting at, Feroxi?" She asks, voice already getting testy.

Responding with a shrug, I continue on. "Nothing, Commander. Nothing. It just seems like you have so much to prove. The General's this big, _huge_ fella. That guy could probably bench a wyvern! Then we have…"

Looking to my left, I fake a wince and suck in a bit of air. "You. Oh dear."

Once again she lowers her binoculars, both of her vermilion eyes boring into me as she faces me down. Again, her hand rests on her sword. She doesn't seem wanting to draw it yet. Oh please, please do. Give me a reason to fight you. Let me just embarrass you in front of all of your men.

"I have to ask." Lifting a finger to my chin, eyes up to the sky as I try to act pensive. "How _did_ someone as clueless as you get put on the front? Didn't peg the big-man as a nepotist."

"I am here because of my ability, not my blood!" She protests, grip tightening around the hilt of her sword. Ooooooh, this is too much fun. It's like teasing Cynthia all over again, that blue-haired dummy.

Covering my mouth, faking shock before I dig even deeper. "Really? He did mention that you're skilled with a sword. Shame that ability doesn't seem to translate to command." I stop talking for a moment, snapping my fingers and faking a 'eureka' expression. "Maybe _that's_ why you're stuck with the scouting job! So you don't screw up in combat and get all of your **men killed!** "

" **ENOUGH!"** The woman roars, a flock of black birds soaring over our heads as she startles them out of their slumber. Veins start popping out from beneath the woman's chocolate skin. Her buzzed hair almost stands out on it's ends. Under her armor, I can see her chest rise and fall with each breath she takes. Pissed off to a T, Niles would be high-fiving me if he was here. "I will not be mocked by a damned barbarian! Especially one as uncouth as you! Leave my presence at once! Be glad I do not dismiss your party from this army entirely!"

"Dear, if you did that, you'd lose the only three decent soldiers in this rabble." I end with a sweet smile, spinning off and marching off with another victorious bite of my apple before I throw the core over my shoulder.

Wow, that _was_ cathartic. Nothing feels better then bringing an egotistical brat down a few pegs.

As I walk into the camp, a few events catch my eye. A blonde boy and girl sparring in the ring, using a few of the tricks Caeldori had shown them earlier. They were still a long way from handling a real battle, but at least now they had the building blocks. Maybe they'd actually survive their first fight. Another pair, two darker haired girls, polishing their gear and chatting with each other. Discussing the thing only girls their age care about. Clothes, boys, their next leave period. Going shopping in the town-square when they arrive back at Nellis.

Oh, that would've been nice. If only we had the money! Damn it!

Three more of the troopers surround the fire, the youngest of them being a short boy with a broad-brimmed hat. He beams at the group as he explains to them the basics of tracking and hunting wild boar, one of the subjects in question spinning on a spit over the open flame. It looks fresh, too. They must've caught it within the past hour. One of them waves at me as we pass by, calling me 'Miss Selena.' I smile and wave back, continuing on towards my own tent. Gods, what's this light feeling I have in my chest…

Finally, near the rear of the woods, I see a larger collection of men and women. Each of them on a knee, facing a makeshift shrine with a few dragon-statues placed in a straight line. Behind it stands the unit's lone priest, another young man with an eyepatch and a bit of a slump. He speaks in a dark, low voice. Everyone one of his movements seems slow and subdued. But his words reverberate around him, reaching all ears. Including mine.

" **Each day, we give thanks to the Goddess' bounty."** He doesn't even notice me stop and watch in the distance, too deep into his sermon. **"With Naga's guidance, and with the will of the Voice behind us, we shall overcome any obstacle. The will of the Divine Dragons is one with our own. Our goal is a righteous and a holy one. Only through strength in faith, will we truly destroy the essence of the Fell Dragon once and for all. To do so we need unity, Valentia must be made whole again."**

" **May the light of Naga's blessing aid us."** His congregation responds in unison, heads still bowed.

" **And may it sustain us in this journey. May it make our enemies join us in arms against the true foe. May it aid us in smiting the last of the Grimleal. May it direct us to the Vessel's unholy spawn, so that we may cleanse them from this world. Amen."**

" **Amen."** They all reply, rising in unison and dispersing throughout the camp. The Priest finally notices me, eyes fixing on my own before nodding. I nod back, nervously going back on my way before he tries to engage me in some kind of conversation.

I can't feel sorry for these people. Even if I have to betray them, it's for the right reasons. If this Army ever reached Archenea, the destruction would be… horrible. My parents were lucky to stop the fleet the first time. If they made landfall, countless people would've died.

And then there's this Fell Dragon crap. They're hellbent on wiping out anything and anyone that was associated with Grima. Even the 'Vessel's spawn'.

Do they mean Robin's children? Are they going to go after them as well? If anything happened to Morgan, I couldn't forgive myself. I spent too much time keeping her safe in the future. Mom and Dad were dead, I felt so alone. I had the others, but most of all I had her. She was my responsibility. For the longest time she was the reason I kept fighting.

The smoke of the camp's fires curls high into the sky behind me as I reach our tent. Settling into the bedspread, I shut my eyes. The others aren't here yet, that gives me time to think. Tomorrow, we'll leave. Slip away through the forest and ford the river downstream. After that, making it to Roseanne should be easy. Hopefully Viron's rebuilt his country's army somewhat. If not, he's gonna need help.

Subaki and Caeldori will want to stay and offer that help. So do I, but… can I really risk putting them in harm's way again?

* * *

That night, my dreams are replaced with a memory. The night we told Corrin about our true intentions in her world.

The new palace that was constructed for the Vallite Kingdom was something unique. A mix of both Hoshidan and Nohrian architecture coming together to form a new style. Colors danced together in near perfect harmony. Tapestries designed by Oboro and Camilla hung across large stone pillars. The short hall was a compact rectangle, not as lavish as it's Hoshidan or Nohrian counterparts. It felt humble, but not empty. As if it had all it needed to possess. It fit Corrin's personality well.

A twin set of thrones rested at the very end of the hall. The walls were lined with large windows on each side of the audience-hall, with light beaming down upon the three of us as we presented ourselves to the new Queen and King. Each of us was on a single knee, sword drawn and pressed to the ground as we bowed our heads and explained ourselves.

At the end of our tale, each of us lifted our heads. Corrin nodded once, her brow was furrowed as she tried to think the situation over. Kaze was on her flank, hands behind his back as a frown formed on his face. Seeing the green-haired ninja at a loss was rare. On the opposite side, Silas leaned forward in his seat and rested his chin upon his hands, the crown on his head tilting slightly forwards before he pushed it back up. Jakob was the one on his flank, mouth wide in surprise. Now him, I was glad to see so confused. Smarmy little jerk.

"I've gotta hand it to you guys. This is one of the craziest stories I've heard in my life." Silas started, sitting himself back up and placing both of his hands upon the throne's armrests. A Nohrian noble Knight turned a new king. He still wore his old Paladin armor, and it suit him. Especially considering his new stature.

"Silas, you know we'd never lie to either of you." Inigo replied, sheathing his sword back onto his hip. Both of the grey haired mercenary's hands rested behind his back. His gaze moved over to Corrin. "I'm sorry we didn't tell you sooner, your Highness. But…"

"Anakos died before he told us your name." Owain, this time. His face was beet red, eyes shooting back and forth between the royal couple's retainers extremely quickly. Gods, he was so petrified he didn't even try to keep up his whole 'Odin Dark' act. Meanwhile I stood there sandwiched between both of them, trying to stay my nerves as I kept my eyes focused on Corrin.

Inigo nodded in confirmation. "Yes. All we knew was that you resided in Nohr, so we left for Nohr. Each of us joined the Royal Army in hopes of finding you one day."

"Well, I'm glad you told us." Silas replied, smiling at our trio. "I'll admit, it's hard for me to buy this. Buuuuut, we did fight a massive dragon hellbent on destroying the world. Who turned out to be my father-in-law! That was uh… interesting."

"But it explained why I can turn into a dragon." Corrin finally mused, red eyes flicking between each of us. "Now I understand why my siblings couldn't find records of you before you joined the Army. So _none_ of you are from here?"

Owain shook his head, sucking in his chest and moving forward. "Nay, your highness. We are but shadowy heroes, traversing time and space itself to quench our thirst for adventure! When I heard your father tell such an cruel tale of his fate and actions, how could I stand by and allow a folly to take place? Such actions would be unsuitable for a warrior of legend such as Odin D-"

"Owain, cut it out." I finally muttered, glaring at the back of the man's head. I lifted a hand from my hips to smack the 'warrior of legend' in the back of his head, before grabbing his shoulder and dragging him backwards. Again, I looked to Corrin, explaining further. "Where we're from, a crazy dragon destroyed everything. Our homes, our countryies, our families. Everything and everyone died. It was terrible, and we couldn't just sit back and let it all happen again to someone else."

"I see…" Corrin answered, sorrow coming across her form as she heard our origin story. The girl wasn't as naive as she was when I met her, but she certainly hadn't lost that blasted empathy of hers. "I'm grateful you all came. Each of you have become dear friends of mine during our journey through Valla. I can't believe that… I never knew about such suffering you all went through." It was as if she absorbed the sorrow we all emanated from our pasts and took it on herself, trying to help shoulder our burden. "But, why tell us this? Did my Father ask you to do another task?"

Inigo shook his head, but as he spoke, the dream shattered. An alien smell began to fill my nose. Something all to familiar.

Brimstone.

* * *

I lift my head, eyes wide open as the telltale screech of a Wyvern smashes into my eardrums.

The camp's already ablaze by the time I get to it's center.

At the front, I see a group of lavender-clad soldiers rush forwards. The fleur of Roseanne clear and present on their banner as they press through with spears leveled. The unit's a complete and utter mess, Beril's Stormtroopers having broken all semblance of discipline and rushing backwards through the forest. Smoke chokes out the sun above me, curling up into the morning sky.

The scorch marks that line the ground are clear and distinct. Whoever made these has a clear command over their mount. Not many casualties to speak of, though. I see only two from my position. One charred corpse next to a tent, and another girl with a pair of arrows protruding from her back. Both look Valentian in uniform and armament. All the while our attackers are almost on me.

I draw my sword and dig my feet into the ground, spotting three spearmen rushing at me first and foremost. I need to find Subaki and Caeldori before I even bother trying to parlay with whoever's leading these soldiers.

The first man who attacks me makes a slow thrust with his spear. I sidestep to the right and lop his weapon's tip off, then send a roundhouse kick flying into his chest. He stumbles back, running into one of his friends behind him and sending them both falling like a pair of ragdolls.

Another soldier approaches, lifting his poleaxe up and swinging it down in a crest. This time I lunge forwards, grabbing the shaft of his weapon and ripping it out of his hands. As he's yanked forwards by the momentum, I bring my elbow smashing into his jaw, before whipping my sword'-hilt around and caving his helmet in. As the final conscious soldier tries to dig herself out from under my first assailant, I move over and stomp my boot harshly against her jaw. Three down.

Another group of enemies appears, four this time. This time however, it's different. Two mercenaries, a mage, and an archer. Continuing my momentum, I press into the first merc, lowering my shield-bearing shoulder and charging into his chest. As he's pushed back, his companion makes a wild-strike at my side, which I promptly block and parry out of my way. With that I crouch down, kicking my foot out and knocking the merc's legs out from under him.

Right after, a fireball soars just above my head. A few stray strands of my beautiful hair are charred away into nothingness at a moment.

Why can't these guys just LEAVE ME ALONE?

Rolling over to the merc I just kneecapped, I straddle him for a brief moment before decking him in the nose twice. His head lags back as red starts seeping from his nostrils. Meanwhile his twin I tackled prior starts to drag himself up, but not before I move over and give him a hand of my own.

As I pull us both up to our feet, I press my blade against his throat and turn to face both the mage and archer. Staring them down from a distance, digging my feet into the charred earth below us. "Don't move, don't move an inch." I hiss into his ear, feeling him gulp down as my sword bounces against his jugular. Gods, I don't want to kill anyone! Why are all of these jokers focusing on me!? Where's Subaki and Caeldori!?

The two hold their ground, fire still resting in the palm of the mage's hand while the archer glares at me with an arrow nocked. She lowers her bow slightly, clearly not willing to skewer her comrade just to get at me. Good, they have some humanity. I can work with that.

That's when I actually notice something, though. They're not dressed the same as the other soldiers. Well, _obviously_ they aren't due to their different class. But they also have different styles entirely. The mage's cap is lined with a dark blue, a sash resting around his shoulders as he stares me down. The archer also has the same darker tone upon her outfit, a white mark stamped upon her leather chestpiece just atop her breast.

It's… not a fleur. It's a brand.

A very familiar brand.

**...Crap.**

"What're Ylisseans doing here!?" I call out, panic overtaking me as I realize how bad of a situation this is. I'm fighting my own people. I'm hurting my own people. But Subaki and Caeldori don't know that. What if they're still fighting? What if someone's been killed!? Crap, crap, crap.

Neither of the two respond, merely looking behind me as I feel a rush of wind hit my back.

Before I can turn around, I feel a strong jolt of electricity hit me right in the lower spine.

I'm out like a light.

* * *

By the time I'm coming to, I'm being dragged forwards by a pair of soldiers. Each holding one of my arms. My knees skid across the ground painfully, each bump and hole in the dirt feeling like a punch from a taguel. My head's still dazed, I can't feel a damn thing.

Ahead of me I see a cart, a few prisoners lined up on their knees in front of it. From the back I can see Subaki and Caeldori's distinct hair. They're OK. Thank the Gods they're OK. Now if only I could say the same for my damned head… ugh, I'm gonna puke.

"If she hurls, Gwen, I'm letting you drag her onto the wagon." I hear one of my transporters say, tugging me along with even more force.

"If she hurls, I'm throwin'er inta th'river and leavin'er tuh drown." His companion replies in an uncaring tone. As we reach the line, the both throw me down at the foot of the cart. I don't even have the strength to pull myself up, I'm just lying there. Pathetic.

Caeldori cries out to me, I can hear a bit of a scuffle as someone tries to keep her down. Subaki barks out an order, telling her to stay still or not do something stupid. I can't tell, I'm drifting in and out of consciousness right now.

Two female voices take over the conversation, ordering the the men to start loading the other prisoners into the cart. One by one, I see five others get loaded into the rear. Then, the wagon pulls out, wheels turning away as a bit of dirt is pushed up atop one of my pigtails. In the end all that's left are Subaki, Caeldori and I.

"So these three were the ones who actually put up a fight?" I hear yet another feminine voice question. A bit younger and lively. She sounds curious, as if someone had just shown her three exotic animals from a zoo. She sounds so… familiar…

"Indeed. Each of them defeated about five soldiers a piece, according to the Sergeant at Arms." Another voice replied, older this time. Softer as well, but also more clear-cut and precise. She sounds familiar too. Come on, Severa. Just… lift your head up. Take a look at them, damn it. Stop laying around like you're dead.

"The swordswoman's alive. Barely. That thunder-tomb of yours nearly killed her." The second voice commented, pacing about to my left side.

"I uh… might've… overdid it." A nervous laugh answers the woman's comment, before she wanders over to my companions. "They don't look Valmese. Feroxi mercs, maybe?"

"No, they don't fight like Feroxi." I feel the tip of a boot touch my arm. "This one used a Ylissean style, I saw it from Minerva. The others used a style completely foreign to me."

Cherche. Of course it's Cherche, she's the Duchess of this country.

"Will one of you please stop gawking and **help her!?** " I can hear Caeldori plead, her voice breaking apart like shattered glass. Don't cry, dear. I'm fine, mother's fine. I just… need to catch my breath.

"We already sent for a cleric, young one. Your friend will live." Cherche answered calmly, the sound of her boots crunching against the dirt as she walks away from me. "What's your name, dear? You seem far too young to be a killer for hire."

"I won't tell you a blasted thing until you help my mother!" She screeches back. "At least help her up! See if she's breathing!"

"She's breathing, I can hear her." The other voice answers. "But you're right, leaving her face down like this is kinda cruel."

With that, I can feel a pair of gloved hands take hold of my shoulders and lift me up. Slowly I'm spun around, with my back resting against some kind of barrel or box. I can suddenly hear a sharp gasp come from my courier's mouth, the same gloved hand moving a bit of hair out of my face as she utters another word. "S-S-Severa?"

Open. Your. Eyes. Slowly, my eyelids finally listen to what I've been telling them to do for the past ten minutes. The sun blinds them for a few seconds, my headache taking a whole new level of intensity as my vision slowly returns back to me.

First I see Cherche, her hand lifted up to her mouth. Eyes wide with shock. She looks exactly as I remember her. Oval, rounded face with a Wyvern-wing collar and headband. The same silver armor cradles her neck and torso, the woman's battered double-headed axe visible over her shoulder. "She's alive? But she's been missing for-"

"Five years." The other woman finishes, my eyes slowly shifting over to her. It's… not a woman at all. It's a girl, three years younger than me. Purple eyes welling up with tears, and a tuft of short-red hair that I'd recognize anywhere. She's grown up, the girl I left behind now looks so different now. A set of dark-flier armor sandwiches her tactician's cloak. Her old pants have been replaced by a skirt, stockings and long riding boots. Two wings of leg armor hang off her side, connected by a pair of belts crossing over her waist.

I'm smiling like a fool as I realize who it is. Laughing like one too, everyone probably thinks I'm delusional. I might be, there's a chance I'm seeing something that isn't even there. But I hope it's true, Gods… please let it be her.

"Severa. You're…" She doesn't even finish the sentence, wrapping her arms around me and falling apart in the embrace. I can hear her crying into my shoulder. My uniform turning wet as her tears soak it down to my skin.

It's a struggle, but I force my hands up around her, bringing her a bit closer as I manage a weak hug. I run one of my hands through her crimson hair, chuckling softly at this scene she's making. This only makes it worse, the big dummy just starts crying anymore. But I'm used to it. I held her like this when we were kids, too. We were all we had, after all.

"B-big sis. You're home. You're home, you're home…" She babbles, again and again. Each time it's becoming less and less coherent.

All I can do is keep up my smile and hold the hug, happily resting my head against my younger sibling's crying form.

"That's right Morgan. I'm home."


	7. C-6: Heirs of Grima

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Glad to see the port's been getting some traffic. Some people who've read this may notice some changes, I've been doing small rewrites over the transfer. Mostly small things.

When I wake up once more, I find myself in the same position that I was when this whole mess started. Alone, lying down with my head pressed against a soft bed of… something. This time, instead of being surrounded by trees and grass, I can smell the faint stench of medicines. White walls and a brown ceiling encompass me. I'm in some sort of room, that much is for sure. But… ugh. My head's still fuzzy as hell.

Trying to sit up, I feel something covering my body. It feels so soft… bed sheets? Am I on a mattress? Looking down at my stomach confirms it. I am, in fact, enshrouded by a few layers of linen and cloth. Rather thick cloth, too. I can feel myself sweating underneath this crap.

Pulling myself out, from my own personal mummification, I throw my legs over the side of the bed and look down at my stomach again. Stripped down to my smallclothes, my usual black undergarments also being accompanied by a string of bandages wrapped around my torso. The small of my back smarts like nuts. Gods, it's hard for me to even sit up. Still, I gotta try and stand. Lazing about in here's not gonna do me any good.

Grabbing onto the side of the bed, I quickly push myself upwards and land on my feet. Regretting the move instantly as my head started to swirl around. Right, moving this quickly, bad idea! Everything's double, head's spinning, ears are ringing. OK, just gotta… grab the wall. Almost, almost… good! Now hold on until the world stops looking like I'm riding a drunk pegasus.

That's when someone opens the door and scuttles inside from behind me, gasping loudly before grabbing my shoulders from behind. Turning my head, I spot none other than the reason I'm even stuck in this blasted bed.

"Severa, what're you doing!?" Morgan sputters out in panic, guiding me back down onto the bed as carefully as she can. Her gloves are off now, fingers digging into my bare skin as she holds me in place upon my return to the mattress. "You shouldn't be standing right now. I'm surprised you can even move after the hit I gave you!"

She continues to push me down, forcing me back into lying onto the bed. Still too weak to resist a girl half as strong as I usually am. This day just keeps getting better and better. "Still haven't heard an apology yet." I grumbled, resting both of my legs atop the sheets before she could suffocate me under them again. "And where the heck are we?"

"The hospital in Roseanne Castle." She answers, sitting herself down at the side of the bed and resting her hands on her lap. So it wasn't all a dream, she really is here. My own little nutjob of a sister, in the flesh. Thousands of miles from our home, in a country she has no business being in. Judging from the Ylissean soldiers, I'm gonna guess she's got more than a good reason _to_ be here though. "You've been out for two days now, actually. But the clerics said you'll be all healed up by tomorrow!"

"T-two days?" I stammer out, my eyes widening in surprise. "Two **days?** What the hell did you hit me with, Morgan!? An Arcthunder tome!?"

"Uh… no." She answers meekly, eyes jumping about as she unleashes yet another nervous smile. "J-just a normal Thunder tome. But you had a hostage! So I needed to… make… sure you stayed down?"

As she focuses her gaze back onto me, I sigh and roll my own pair of eyes. How does she do that? One smile and I can't even be mad at her anymore. Even when she almost fries me alive like a fish fillet. "You're an idiot." I say half-heartedly, smirking at her. "But I'm glad you took something out of Dad's magic lessons."

"Uh… the one where we always go for the guaranteed takedown? Or blasting first, ask questions later?" Morgan asks with genuine curiosity. I shrug in response, and both of us share a laugh.

Oof, ugh. OK, hurts to laugh. You're just full of bad ideas today Sev.

"So. Why're you here. And what happened to your cloak? You look like a…"

"Pegasus knight?" She finishes for me, beaming happily as she hopped up to her feet. She gave me a small twirl around so I could take in how she looked entirely. I had to say, the outfit works for her. "Don't I look _awesome?_ Mother helped me fit the armor to go with my cloak! Now I'm armored, _and_ I can show off to boot!"

"I'm glad at least one of us kept up the family legacy." I commented, my eyes focusing on her form rather than her clothing. She really had matured while I was gone. Her hips seemed more pronounced, lips were more full. She'd even grown a few inches, even if I was still taller than her by a bit. Her voice was a bit deeper, her attitude a bit more less zany. Gods, I can't believe I missed her turning into a woman. She finished growing up without me.

I must look as guilty as I feel, because she stops spinning almost immediately and folds her arms over her chest. "Heyyy! I'm sorry, OK! I won't shock you again, I swear!" She protests mockingly, sticking her tongue out for a brief moment before beaming once more.

"Yeah, yeah. Sure." I dismiss quickly. "So you joined the Pegasus Knights?"

"Yes and… no." She clarifies, sitting herself back down onto the bed once more. "Mother put me through the training and the initiation. Well, Queen Sumia did. They figured that having the Captain induct her daughter might be a bit biased. But, I passed! So I'm technically a Knight!"

"But the Regiment isn't here. Which means you're not attached with them." I point out, not having seen any flapping wings around the area while the skirmish was going on.

Again she shakes her head. "Nope! I'm the uh… what's my official title right now…" OK, maybe she's still as airheaded as I remember. Wait, why is she digging through her pack waist-pack? And now she's pulling out a scroll? Oh my Gods, does she really need a written note to remember what her job is!? "Right, here it is! Uh… 'Military advisor to the Duke and Duchess of Roseanne. Acting Commander of the Ylissean Expeditionary Force'." She reads off, nodding to herself before rolling the the scroll back up and pocketing it into her pouch again.

"Really. You couldn't remember that?" I deadpan at her.

All she does is shrug. "Who caaaares? I'm doing the same thing Dad trained me to! Come up with battle plans and organize troops! Even if it's only about five-hundred guys."

I snort, rolling my eyes again. But then I sigh deeply, my mind drifting back to the thoughts of our father. "Daddy hasn't come back yet, has he?"

Six words and I manage to send a knife through the good mood of the room, nice to know I have a knack for this sort of thing still. Morgan's shoulders slump at the mention of our Father's untimely passing, shaking her head clearly. "No." She confirms, the joy sapped out of her voice. "I uh… we looked again. But, we couldn't find him."

I nod in understanding, but she isn't finished just yet. "We um… we had another memorial service for him. In Ylisse. Everyone turned up. Except you, Owain and Inigo."

Shame. Shame is only word that describes what I feel as she tells me this information. My mouth juts open as I attempt to form some kind of response, but again I just can't. My eyes start to prick and water. They had a funeral for him. Probably a State funeral, considering his position. He was the Grandmaster of the Army, after all. They probably had a parade. All of the Shepherds probably gave eulogies. Mother probably helped carry the casket to wherever they buried him.

Damn it all, I shouldn't cry. He wouldn't want me to cry.

"I'm not mad at you, Severa." Morgan said calmly, leaning over to place a hand over my own. As I open my eyes back up I can see that she's inched closer, smiling again as she speaks in a soft tone. For the first time, we have the same hair-color. Now we actually look like sisters. "I know you would've come if you knew. Everyone did. But we couldn't find you. Or Inigo, or Owain. What happened? Where did you go?"

"I-it's…" Focus, be strong. Explain as best as you can. "...We had to go somewhere to help someone. It took us a long time, but we did it. Now we're back. It's complicated, I'll try and tell you more another time. OK?"

Again the little tactician nods, giving my hand another squeeze. "Alright. I might not be mad at you for missing the big shindig, but not inviting me to your wedding? Come on, Sis! That's just uncalled for."

Snorting like a pig, I sit up and slug her half-heartedly in the arm. "Hey, we were far away! Besides, I've seen you at weddings. You prolly would've eaten the entire kitchen, like you did when Gerome and Cynthia got hitched!"

"You can't prove I was involved!" She protested, blushing heavily until her face matched the same tone as her hair. "Yarne was the one face-first in the salmon! And Nah was basically rolling around in the deserts!"

"Yeah, and how did they get all of that food outta the reception hall and into the Shepard barracks?" I question with another deadpan. "Oh, not to mention how you were _miraculously_ missing the entire time?"

"I demand a lawyer." Morgan requested with as straight of a poker-face as she could pull off, both of us staring each other down. Five seconds. Ten seconds. Fifteen seconds. Then we both just start laughing, falling over the bed and howling at the memory. Just like old times again, the two of us jabbing back and forth.

"Ok, OK. Oh Gods, I haven't laughed like that in a few months." Morgan manages out, trying to level herself once more.

I raise a brow in disbelief. "A few months? Wow, that's some restraint you've gotten. Haven't pranked anyone in that long?"

"That was before I had an actual _job,_ with _responsibilities_ and… _bleh._ " She complains, resting her head over my bandaged stomach in faux fatigue. "How did Dad and Mom handle acting this straight-laced all the time!? I haven't been able to let loose in soooo long! I feel like I'm gonna just explode with prankster-energy!"

"If you're gonna explode, do it far away from me." I request, tugging her back upright and off of my body. Now my ribs hurt as much as my back, great.. "But enough of that. What else did I miss back home! Did anyone else get together?"

"Oh! Yeah!" All at once, she lights up again like a Yuletide tree. I think I actually have whiplash. "Laurent and Nah're a thing now! They haven't tied the knot, but they've been dating for about a year now…? Yeah, I think so! They're actually kinda cute together! Even though Laurent's a bit of a wet noodle around her."

"That boy has some really weird tastes, I'll give him that." I grumble.

"Noire and Yarne are still together, I think? But you knew that already."

"Of course I did, I ran into them making out." Shuttering as I remember that cursed image that day in the castle. Never again would I look at the taugel and the archer the same way. Especially Noire, usually she wasn't that… 'forwards' with people.

"Kjelle's still single. She still hasn't found a guy yet, it's… strange."

"That's because Kjelle… uh… let's just say she has a different pallet." No need to out her, technically she doesn't even know what happened during that Harvest Festival. Nor does she need to, slobbering all over me like that.

Morgan, thank the Gods, didn't catch on. But I did notice she left one of our old friends out of her recap. "So what about Brady? Did he find someone to settle down with yet?" I question innocently. The Priest was more than a bit rough around the edges, but I'm sure he could find some girl who could stomach his hardarse play he liked to put on for everybody. If _Yarne_ could get someone to fall for him, I'm sure he could.

Thaaaats when Morgan went quiet again. Way, way too quiet for her. She even turns to face away from me a bit, looking over at the table near my head. What is she doing? And why is she rubbing her neck? Plus her cheeks are flushing again-

Oh no.

No. No, no, **no.**

"You did not."

"In my defense-"

"You did _**not."'**_

"He's a real sweetheart, Severa! Really!"

" _Morgan!"_

"No, I mean it!" She rushes to explain, turning back around as her hands move in a flurry of movements with her words. "He's so nice to me, Sis! He treats me like I'm the only girl in the world! Whenever I need something, he's there! Whenever I'm feeling down, he always picks me back up! Yeah, he's rough around the edges. But he's so kind and soft at the center! He's like you! Well… maybe not as rough as you."

She isn't making me budge. I shake my head. "Uh uh, no. I don't like it."

"Come on, Severa!"

"Morgan, **he thought you were a spy!"**

"I had **amnesia!** And I appeared outta nowhere! Plus I didn't go with you guys through the portal! Is it really that surprising that he suspected me!?"

Wait, what? "Hold up." I cut her off again, pressing a finger to her lips. " _Had_ amnesia. As in, past tense?"

Morgan nodded again at a rapid pace. "A-after the war was done, we went back to Mount Prism and had Naga did some uh… gobble-goo in my head." She explains, spinning a finger around the side of her cranium. "It's uh… it's not perfect. Apparently Grima did a number on me when I got dragged back in time. But I remember bits and pieces now. Of our old timeline, I mean! Growing up with you, Mom and Dad."

"So you remember me now? Like, actually remember me?" I can't believe what I'm hearing. For years I thought I'd never get the old Morgan back, or the times we spent together in our old world. But now…

The Knight nods her head rapidly, clearly glad to get out from under my ire. "Yeah! Well… kinda. Bits and pieces. I remember the house we grew up in again. That estate on the outskirts of Yllistol?" Now I'm the one nodding, confirming her words. "Oh, and that time you tried to ride Mom's Pegasus as a kid and got bucked off?" Again, I nod in confirmation. Even though I wish _I_ had forgotten that. "Oh, and sword lessons with Dad and Uncle Chrom!"

She's smiling at me again. Her eyes are alive like purple flames dancing in her irises. She knows being forgotten had hurt me when she first came back. Morgan wanted to tell me this for a long time, I can tell. And now that she did, I can feel her just radiate happiness at me.

"So." Morgan speaks again, still hyped up from the little revelation she dropped on my head. She takes hold of both of my hands, looking at me like a love-struck puppy-dog. "Don't hate Brady, please? I swear he's the best boyfriend I could ever ask for!"

Damn it. She's giving me the look. I can't fight the look.

"Do you really love him?" I ask first and foremost. Another nod in response. "And you're sure he makes you happy?"

"I couldn't imagine being with anyone else, sis." She affirms, gaze hardening as her resolve leaks out.

"...Ok, _fine._ I guess I'm OK with this. But if he ever hurts you, I'm gonna kill him." I promise, my tone turning rather venomous at the end as I issue out my ultimatum.

I mean it to, I don't care if he's a Priest. If he hurts my kid sister, I will **end him.** And I'll the corpse in Wyvern Valley to boot.

But my murderous thoughts are thrown out the window as Morgan lunges forwards, wrapping herself around me in a near bone-crushing hug. "Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!" Gods, she really was worried about this. Is she that serious about him?

"Alright, alright! Now geddoff! I'm convalescing here!" She removes herself from me, not without a bit of a push from yours truly.

"Now. You tell me about that new husband of yours." She questions, bouncing up and down in her seat. "Oooooh, I want all of the details! What's his name? How did you meet? Is he a good soldier? Can he cook? He's really cute, too! So's that girl of his!"

"Girl of ours, Morg. She's my daughter. Like, actual daughter." This stops her bouncing, the tactician's mind breaking a bit as she tries to do the mental math to explain to herself why I have a teenage daughter only about ten years younger than me.

Waving my hand dismissively, I continue. "It's complicated. Space-time crap like when we came back. Again, I'll tell you later. His name's Subaki, we met after our Commanders joined forces. He's the best Pegasus Knight I've seen. Yes, tied with mother. Yes, where he's from men can ride Pegasi. No, he can't cook for his life. And… yeah, he's hot."

That last part makes me blush with embarrassment. Talking about my spouse's finer features with people still weirds me out.

"And my apparent niece's name is…?" Morgan asks.

"Caeldori. I named her after Mom, sort of."

"Is she a Pegasus Knight too?"

"Mmhm. She really wants to fly again, actually. Think you could arrange that?"

Morgan strokes her chin, pondering the idea. "Probably… I'd need to ask Viron for one from his stables."

"Good. Do that now." I request, settling deeper into my bed. "Let me come with, actually. This bed's gonna drive me nuts."

"Not until you tell me what you were doing with those Valentians." Morgan affirms, digging her hands through her hip pouches once more and removing both a quill and a notebook from her side and flipping it open. judging from the angle I could see it from, she already has it the thing filled up half-way with other info. "There's gotta be something you can tell me now."

"Ugh. Fine. I'll tell you... three things. Then we hit up the stables, and then I get back to sleep. Got it?" I wait for Morgan's answer, but she doesn't reply. Fine, I'll take that as a yes. "They're lead by an old guy named Maddox. He's basically a walking, talking tank."

"Maddox, Maddox... oh!" Morgan snaps her fingers, before flipping back a few pages in the book and reading over an older passage. "Right, I uh... there's a few reports I've gotten about this guy. He wasn't a General in the last War, but he's apparently one of the survivors of the people who defended Rigel Castle."

"Uh... 'Rigel' Castle?"

"It's what they're calling Valm Castle now. Apparently that's the old name." She explains, before flipping forwards to the empty page. "So what did you make of him?"

"Big, intimidating, and disturbingly charismatic. He basically turned a crowd of farmers and shop owners into a ravenous mob by yelling at them."

"Mmhm... and what about the Army he has?"

This time I sit up, throwing my legs back over and scooting forwards to sit myself next to my interrogator. "Normal Valmese set-up. He's got about... ten regiments with him? Spears mixed with light troops and missile companies. Plus at least three groups of mages." She pauses, looking to my left in surprise. "We went to their headquarters, they had a bunch of rosters all over the war-room. I memorized what I could at a glance."

"I'm uh... more surprised you even know what this stuff is. You _hate_ logistics and formations."

"Let's just say I've spent the past few years being forced to learn a few things." I grumble, thinking back to my time in Nohr. Being Lady Camilla's retainer, that also meant I had to be one of her Army's Captains. Which _also_ meant leading people, a lot. So I had to dust off a few books and relearn some battle-tactics and strategies. That's what I get for sleeping through Dad's lessons.

"Ok, ok. One last thing, and I'll get you a cane or... something." She promises, filling out the next page with information and speculation before looking back to me expectantly.

"They're planning on re-invading Altea." I explain bluntly, expecting some look of shock, worry, or fear. Instead Morgan snorts, grinning from ear to ear at the prospect.

"Figured. The Army they sent to Chon'sin's twenty-times the size of the one here. They don't send that much manpower just for a land-conquest."

"T-twenty times?"

"Don't worry about it." She says, way more nonchalant than I would've wanted to hear from her. "Listeeen, we came here for a reason. Say'ri can handle it! Chon'sin has a military again, plus a _really_ well armed civilian populace. They can hold off whatever these guys throw at'em, at least for a while."

"OK. Then what about Roseanne?"

"Uh..." Morgan shuts her book, laughing nervously. "Viron's got about uh... five regiments of troops?"

"So half of what's getting thrown at him." I point out. "Probably gonna be even more, they're still mustering troops back across the border."

"That's why I'm here, though!" Morgan shoots off quickly, popping up to her feet and shooting me a thumbs up. "I'm a miracle-worker, remember? Uncle Chrom knew Viron was gonna need help, so he sent us here a few months back."

"Great. Wonderful. I'm so glad you're taking up the mantle of both our overly-perfect parents." I mutter under my breath, extending my hand forwards and grabbing onto her shoulder to hoist myself back up. Ok, now I think I can handle standing. Walking though... we'll see. "Go get me a cane. And a robe." I request, releasing my grip on her. "Let's actually take a look at what Roseanne has to offer."


	8. C-7: Rose of Valentia

My memories of Roseanne were patchy at best. We had only spent a few weeks in Roseanne before continuing the campaign towards Valm. Most of that time I'd spent stuck in the back of a medical carriage, nearly having gotten my arm taken off by a horseman during the assault on the Mila Tree. My shoulder still stings whenever I remember that fight, but the scars have healed and I can swing a blade as good as I've ever been able to.

I can tell that the city used to be something beautiful. The architecture was something to marvel at. First the buildings were built into a strong base, then outwardly perfected to look as grandiose as possible without compromising their integrity. Pictures and portraits were etched into the dark stone walls. Images of animals, dragons, people and harvest bounties painstakingly created in permanent murals. Every home and shop seems encircled with trees and flowers, carts going back and forth across the roadways to offload their goods. The people seemed content enough, if not carrying their own scars beneath what I can see.

Still there's work to be done. Large craters are still all over the countryside, which I'm guessing are remnants of whatever siege-works Walhart brought with him on his little genocide run. The ruins of the old outer wall haven't been completely repaired yet, piles of rubble are still left separating what usable battlements there are. Even within the city, ruins still dot the streets. I can see a few vagabonds duck into one as the sun slowly begins to set once more over the horizon.

Only a few people are still walking through the streets at this time of day anyway. Night-Watchman starting up their patrols or kids running home after their stint at the schoolhouse. One or two farmers taking their haul back to their homesteads that surrounded the Capitol. Everyone looks so much older than they should, years of stress and suffering taking its toll on them. But they're still trying in spite of it all. Beaten but not broken. Seems like that's the common theme that I've seen through this place.

Gods, I spent too much time in that stupid hospital. It's turned me into a wannabe philosopher. My stay in the castle ended up taking a few days longer than I wanted, or anyone expected. Even after I left, I'm being forced to walk with this stupid cane and a chaperone. I feel like an old fart. I'm _thinking_ like one too. First chance I get, I need to find a practice dummy to slice in half. No more of this dainty patient nonsense.

Morgan's walking with me, both out of guilt for putting me in this position and trying to make up for lost time. For the first time since I came back I don't feel lost and confused, at least. I've been mostly brought up to speed on the world I live in again. Along with how everyone's managed to muck it all up after we spent two years cleaning it for them.

Caeldori's here as well, totally awestruck by the majesty of what surrounded her. It's her first time being in a proper city since we left Valla, and she apparently celebrated it by blowing all the gold we had left on her own personal shopping spree. Tempted to wallop her with my cane for that.

"Aunt Morgan, is Ylisstol anything like this?" She asked with more than a little bit of whimsy, still clutching a few of her shopping bags. Fabric, tools and accessories popped out from the top. Even a new scarf was wrapped around her neck, colored in red and white like her old Hoshidan armor.

Morgan snorted, tossing a piece of caramel corn into her mouth. Of course, she managed to snake her only niece into buying her a snack. Meanwhile I'm here still stuck on a soup diet. Maybe I should wallop _both of them._ "As if. Ylisstol is huge compared to Roseanne. Less uh… rubbly too. We've got shops and bakeries as far as the eye can see. It's like you died and went to snack heaven."

"Oooh. That sounds amazing!" The girl skipped for a moment, before facing me. "Mother, how long until we get to visit your home?"

"You're the ones who decided we're staying here to help 'Archery-man.' At this rate it'll be an entire year before we make it over." I point out, glaring over towards Morgan's bag of goodies. Slowly I reach my hand up for the top, the tactician in training's focus on the road ahead of her instead of the food in her hand.

"Aw come on. You wouldn't abandon your precious younger sister, right?" Morgan crooned, grinning madly as she tossed another treat in her mouth. Almost there, just keep distracting her…

"No, but she's more than happy to steal from you." Caeldori pointed out, her eyes beaming down at my hand just as I was about to grab a handful that was overflowing from the top. Morgan's hand suddenly shot down, smacking mine out of the way and shielding her bag.

"Gah! Traitor!" I cry out, sneering over at my daughter and shaking a fist. Morgan giggles at the whole scene, her only response involving her devouring more of the sweets. Caeldori just levels a tired glare at me, like she was _my_ mother scolding _me._

"Mother, the Priest clearly said that you aren't supposed to eat anything that could excite you. That includes sweets and desserts, as well as anything salty, spicy, difficult to chew, difficult to swallow, tangy or sticky." She explained, listing off my forced diet for the coming week. Suddenly I realize how the men in her squadron back in Valla must have felt like, having to take marching orders from someone this… stern.

"She really _does_ take after Mom, doesn't she Sev?" Morgan chirps, smiling at Caeldori before offering the remainder of the bag over to her. She gladly takes it into her grasp, letting her bags hang from her wrist as she devours the last of the popcorn. Ugh, my poor stomach is gonna hate itself… and it's not even my fault! Why do bad things always happen to me!? Was I Medus in a past life!? Did I have a full-time job kicking griffon pups!?

"She's just about as overbearing as her, that's for sure." I grumble, continuing to hobble down the cobblestone path back towards the castle off in the distance. 'Viron Keep', Gawds. Just when I thought that creep couldn't be any more self-absorbed. Even if it's the name of his house, you'd think he'd change it to 'Roseanne Keep' or something.

"Someone in this family has the be the responsible one." Caeldori shot back, finishing the bag and folding the thing up before slipping it under her belt. "How in the world was Grandmother so prim and proper, and you're both so… so… all over the place?"

 **"It's fun."** Morgan and I both answer in chorus, giving each other a high-five. Caeldori just sighs in embarrassment, focusing on the castle head instead of her two elders.

"Oh, Caeldori. That reminds me…" Morgan started, innocently holding her hands behind her back as her smile turned cheshire. "We've got a little present for you once we get back to the Keep."

"I thought we agreed to keep that quiet." I hiss through grit teeth, stumbling a bit over a hole in the road. Almost fall over, too, before Morgan manages to catch me. All the while the grounded flier peers over to us inquisitively. "Ugh. Fine, fine. Tell her."

Morgan releases me the moment I give her permission, and I almost fall over again. This time I right myself, putting a bit more pressure on my cane than before as I stare down at my feet. Why can't I even walk right?

"So." I hear Morgan begin. "Your mother told me that you're a pegasus rider. A half-decent one, too. Which is higher-praise than she's ever given me." I grumble something to myself, but Morgan ignores me and continues. "Soooo, I've decided that I'm gonna show you the ropes."

"The… ropes?" Caeldori replies in confusion, before her voice hardens a bit. "Aunt Morgan, I'm not some kind of recruit! I-I mean, I've got a lot to learn but, I'm a perfectly good flier!"

"I'm not going to teach you how to be a normal Knight, kiddo. If you're half the woman your grandmother is, you don't need my help with that." Morgan clarifies quickly. I can imagine her just rolling her eyes wide as she says those words. "I'm going to teach you how to be a Dark Flier."

"A dark… wha?"

Morgan coughs in her fist before she starts to explain, putting on her best 'Robin' tone. "So, in Ylisse we have three sections of Pegasus Knights. First are normal Knights. Rank and file, we give them lances. Then we have Falcon Knights. These're the older women in their Companies. They're given staves and usually double as the medics. Are you following?"

"Yeah. We had those back in Hoshido too. Except… well, men could be Sky Knights. And we had more than just a handful of companies."

"When we get back to Ylisse, don't tell MIriel about that. She'll bother you about Pegasus breeding and genetics." Morgan advises before wrapping up her explanation. "Anyway, last we have Dark Fliers. These're Pegasus Knights who're trained to use magic in a more offensive capacity. Usually the have arcwind or an elfire tomb."

"B-but I'm horrible with magic!" Caeldori protests. I finally lift my head away from my feet to see the look of anguish clear and present on her face. "Ask Mother! I can barely even use healing staves!"

"She has problems controlling her aura." I correct. "Which, much as I hate to admit it, your Aunt'll be a better tutor than I can be on that front."

"What was that?" Morgan questions, eyes fluttering innocently as she raises a hand to cup her ear. "Did I just hear the stone-cold Severa _admit she's not the best at something?"_ Little weasel's taunting me, great. I lift my cane up to poke her in the leg, but she dodges it pretty easily.

"Just-" I start, biting my tongue before I end up going off on a tirade. "Yeah. Sure. You're better with magic than I am." I once again force through gritted teeth, almost crushing my wooden cane in my grasp.

Morgan seems to enjoy the pain she's been putting me through, merely beaming over to her new pupil once again. "Listen. My Father taught me everything I know about tomes, magic and channelling. I'll show you the same! Besides, you've got natural talent in you! You'll be fine."

Caeldori didn't seem very convinced at the idea, eyes darting all over the place as we reached the castle gates. "I'll uh… I'm looking forwards to it, I suppose." She managed out before rushing up towards the entrance.

"Wow, she's shy." Morgan said, stopping to wrap my free arm around her shoulders and help me up the steps. "Kinda like you were before Mom and Dad croaked."

"Not all of us can keep smiling into oblivion." I answered with a bit more malice than I had hoped, Morgan's purple eyes flicking down to the stone in shame.

Still, she kept dragging me upwards, both of our boots clapping against the polished stone with each motion. "I just… it's nice. She's actually gonna have a childhood Sev. I wanna be there for that, y'know?"

As we reach the top of the staircase, she releases me from her grasp, giving my padded vest a few swipes before showing me that textbook Morgan smile. Even when the world was literally on fire around us, she still managed to keep this up. How? I'll never know. But I know that it was always enough to make me smile back at her, then and now.

I need to be hopeful. My daughter deserves a better upbringing than I had.

* * *

As we make our way into the main hall of the keep, we're met by a familiar scene. At least a hundred men, women and children sprawled across the vast corridor, mulling and pacing about. Most of the remaining homeless opted to remain within the Keep's walls, where they had a more stable roof over their heads and meals that they could more easily find. They paced about the area, speaking among each other or laying dormant in their makeshift tarp tents. A group of kids were kicking a small ball around one of the columns off to our side, with one of the guardsmen watching over with a smile on his face. A few of the castle's staff wandered back and forth, offering food to the citizens or cleaning up some of the refuse.

It was one of the many ways Virion tried to atone for leaving his home behind. Every man, woman and child in Roseanne was welcome to rest here until the city's reconstruction was complete. A few still-bitter persons remained outdoors, choosing to sulk in the debris they once called home. But most, slowly but surely, did seem to forgive the 'Archiest of Archers' for his flight.

One woman sticks out from the crowd, as she always has. Cherche marched back and forth, offering bread and bowls and broth to her new subjects. Every one of her motions was so graceful and smooth, whenever she spoke to the others she held such a kind smile. Whenever someone came to her with an issue, she seemed to make it her personal mission to fix whatever ailed them. If people ever began to squabble, she appeared out of nowhere to mediate the issue. Nothing, absolutely _nothing_ seemed to transpire in the castle without her knowing and acting on it. She really fit the role of Duchess well, anyone could tell she preferred it to fighting people.

"Bless you, Duchess." An old man croaks as he takes hold of his evening meal, shuffling back towards whatever resting place he claimed for himself. Cherche bade him a wave, taking a gentile pose before spotting Morgan and I advancing on her.

"I was wondering where you two were." She engages us with the same cheerful tone and smile, coming forwards and meeting us halfway. "Caeldori's already gone up to her quarters. Is something the matter?"

"She probably just wants to gush over her new stuff." I explain, deflecting the situation. Last thing I need is a Knight with a fire-breathing Wyvern trying to play family counselor with my impressionable teenage daughter.

"So that's what was in her bags…" Cherche says to herself, seeming to accept the explanation at face value. "Well, what about you Severa? Is our home up to your Altean standards?"

"Do you really want me to answer that?" I ask in a deadpan, feeling Morgan's gaze burn into my head. Like it or not, the city was still in pretty bad shape. The fact that a massive homeless-shelter existed behind us was just proof. "You're making due with what you have at least."

"You should be proud, Cherche. This time next year, everything'll be back to normal!" Morgan exclaimed, hair bobbing as she hopped in place. I just roll my eyes and lean further onto my cane, resisting the urge to gag. Why is she so damned peppy?

"I'm sure of it, Morgan." Cherche replied with a soft giggle, before her expression dropped ever so slightly. "Unfortunately, while I'd rather we discuss your time perusing the town, Viron's waiting for us in the Campaign room."

"Right, we need to get back to planning." Morgan gives me a soft nudge with her elbow, lifting her brow questioningly. "You're good to come with? Lotta stairs but you're kinda important to this whole thing now."

"Twist my arm, why dontcha…" I grumble, adjusting my stance before I begin to hobble off in the direction of the room in question. "Come on you too. It'd be pretty embarrassing if you both arrived after the cripple."

We walked off through the castle, a few maids and butlers passing by as we crossed over the courtyard from the main keep towards the guard barracks. A few of Roseanne's levies were practicing spars with each other, mostly toting spears along with a few bowmen and swords watching from the sidelines. Lightly armored as well, it seemed like most of the Militia was wanting for supplies. This new threat came at a rather poor time.

"They don't know, do they?" I ask as I watch one of the women tumble over during one of the brawls. Her partner laughed as he yanked her back up, both of them embracing each other once she stood up once more. "Viron hasn't told them."

"Until a week ago we still hoped the Valentians would leave us be." Cherche chimes, marching along stiffly ahead of us both now. "That scouting party, and the information you gave us realized our worst fears."

"It's gonna be hard to hold the territory with such a small number of men, your Grace." Morgan confers in an off tone of voice. Referring to Cherche by title was weird enough, hearing her admit the possibility of losing was almost out of character. "If your husband would listen, and just institute my conscription policy-"

"No." Cherche replied curtly, shaking her head as we approached the barracks. "Virion and I are of the same mind on this, we aren't drafting our people."

"Cherche, all due respect, I'm not sure you're gonna have a choice." I chip in, waddling behind through the uneven grass. Recently planted judging by how unlevel the dirt was, along with the patches inside. Walhart's army must've done a number out here as well. "We're already outnumbered two to one."

"Numbers do not win battles." The Knight points out, pausing in front of the barracks door before turning to face us both.

"But they definitely tip the scales." Morgan chides, evoking our father's old catchphrase. "Cherche, please. I'm amazing at my job, don't get me wrong, but even a miracle-worker needs something."

"There's a few other problems I've noticed, too." I look over my shoulder to the sparring ring, the group having broken up their practice and begun idley chatting amongst themselves.

The pink-haired noble didn't seem pleased at either of our points of view, but unfortunately for her reality didn't care about her feelings. Much as I enjoyed raining on everyone's parade, even this seemed like a situation we'd be hard pressed to fanagle ourselves out of.

Silently, Cherche opened the door and beckoned us inside.

* * *

I need to stop spending so much time in these war-rooms. When it came to battles, I was more of a 'stab bad guys in the face' kind of girl than anything else.

The room was intricate and ancient, clearly having been used by several generations of Virions before it's current master had taken the reigns. New maps of the Duchy lined the walls, having been marked up with Morgan's distinct handwriting to show points of defense and assumed lanes of assault. Mantles of armor and weapons hung from a few assorted pillars, each looking as old as Tiki. At the center was a war-table. Blue, green and red pieces strewn about positions to show known troop garrisons.

Virion didn't notice us walk in, too absorbed in a conversation with another pink-haired woman clad what looked to be the mix of an armored corset, shoulder-pads, and a long skirt worn under some metal framework. The head dress also gave it away, she was clearly a War Cleric. Why she was here, I didn't know.

Virion looks like a shell of his usual self. His long hair was disheveled and messy, the… whatever it is hanging from his collar was completely undone. Hell even his collar was screwed up, half-bent over. Bags seemed to hang from his eyes like weights.

"We've returned, dear." Cherche announces, looking across the table and beaming over to the woman that had been holding her husband's attention hostage. "Blanche, I hope the Duke hasn't been too much of a bother. Has he been offering you his 'Archery lessons' again?"

The Cleric snorted as she rested a hand on the table. "He knows if he tried, I'd chop him up and serve him to Minerva. And that's if you didn't find out first." The woman notes with an unnervingly sadistic grin. So much for the Libra type.

Normally this would be where I'd expect Virion to try and defend himself, but the loudmouth was instead focused on the war-table in front of him. He paces around Cherche, Morgan and me to adjust another piece down atop a hill.

Cherche's face flashes with a bit of sorrow, questioningly gazing over towards the armored woman of the cloth. Her face mirrored that of the Wyvern Lord, both uncomfortable and concerned at the silence that permeated the room. With a cough, the Duchess restarts the conversation. "Severa, this is Blanche. Brigadier of Roseanne."

I chuckle sarcastically as I place a hand on my hip, sizing the woman that stood in front of me up. "You put a nun in charge of your Army? I knew you were desperate but _come on_."

"Cousin." Blanche replies in a sickly sweet tone, a smile forming on her face as her interlaced fingers rest atop her stomach. "Instruct your friend to mind her tongue before I feed it to her." She threatens in a far too happy tone, as if she was talking about taking me on a picnic. I can even feel the blood drain from my face as the statement catches me off-guard.

Cherche merely laughed at the statement, making me wonder if she'd actually get a kick out of seeing me be force-fed my own tongue. Morgan chuckled nervously as well, pulling at her steel collar and leaning in close next to me. "You've seen what Aunt Lissa can do with an axe. She's basically like that times ten." She explains darkly, before straightening herself back up.

Don't mess with the crazy lady who has sharp objects. Good to know.

"But, yes. I'm the current Brigadier." She explains, her temperament and voice not changing at all. "I might not be a traditional knight like the Duchess, but we both were trained as Clerics when we were children. Except I didn't leave the priory to go ride monsters for a living."

"Best not hear Minerva say that, you know she's quite sensitive." Cherche advises, the picture of a rather enraged Minerva and an axe-toting Blanche already forming inside my head. Wonder how long a War Cleric can last in a ring with a two-ton flying death machine?

"Your overgrown lizard does not, nor will it ever frighten me." Blanche affirms, before adjusting her view back down to me. It finally dawns on me that she's far above my own height, rivaling Cherche and Virion's own with ease. Morgan and I feel tiny compared to the two. "But regardless. This is the famed second daughter of Robin I've heard so much about?"

"Wait, second?" I ask, my annoyance quickly overcoming my fear. "Why am I second!? I'm older than her! And I'm a better soldier, too!"

"Because I can tolerate her more than I can you." Blanche answers, still keeping that insufferable polite tone. Once again someone has to hold me back from jumping yet another woman who's rubbing me the wrong way.

"Blanche." Morgan interjects, keeping a firm grip on my arm. "Normally I'd be all for annoying my sister, but we have actual issues to address."

"No, by all means, continue. I want more reasons to shove my cane up your a-AGH!" Ow, ow, ow! My foot! The little twerp stomped on my foot! Crap, ass, damn, shit. **OW!**

"Behave." The tactician commands, clearly not having any of it now that we were discussing matters of importance.

I suck in a breath, shut my eyes, and try to focus before I explain everything that had happened while I was working for Maddox's forces. Number and make-up of units, tactics, supplies, morale. Anything I could think of that would affect the battle strategy. Blanche and Cherche listened, for what it was worth. Morgan drew out her notebook and scribbled some new blurbs in. Virion, still silent, had taken a seat at a desk and begun defacing another map.

"Basically we've got a wave of angry, fanatic idiots coming our way." I wrap up, having adjusted some of the red-pieces to show what and where the Valentian forces would probably advance from. "Light troops first, heavies second. Cavalry will likely come in from the flanks."

"They have numbers and equipment, but… their Officers and men seem extremely inexperienced." Morgan comments as she moves a few green pieces towards the Duchy's border. A color code had formed, red being Valentian troops, bleu being Roseanne's Militia and green being Ylisse's assisting forces. "Other than Maddox, did anyone really seem like they were used to warfighting?"

I shake my head, resisting the urge to smear that moron Beril while I had the chance. "No. Even his adjutants seem green as grass."

"We can work with that." Blanche points out, an idea forming in her mind. "We could use their numbers against them, try and force a chain-route."

"We'd need to their Commanders to pull that off." Morgan comments, drawing out a General's piece and holding it in her hand. "Valmese tactics usually involve their Commanders fighting with a group of bodyguards. Usually the toughest in their army."

"A group of fliers could ferry a squadron forwards." Virion finally calls, pacing over to the table and glaring down at the pieces that dot the forest.

"We only have three trained fliers." Morgan points out. "The Duchess, myself and Severa's daughter."

"We have my son and his wife." Virion replies lifelessly as he mentions Gerome and Cynthia, looking over to the Brigadier with sloth. "Whom should have arrived by now from Wyvern Valley."

"They should be here soon, your Grace." His commander answers with a bow, armored corsage bending at the hinge. "Sir Gerome and Lady Cynthia's last correspondence said that they had to take a detour."

"Cynthia prolly saw something and dragged poor Gerome off on a goose-chase to find it." I snigger at the thought, imaging the mask-wearing Wyvern rider wildly pursuing his ditz of a companion.

"That's only five of us, still." Morgan interjects once more, grumbling something under her breath. "I don't like it. Normally I'd want a squadron to handle something this touch-and-go. And putting one of the Duchy's leaders in harm's way-"

"If Chrom was willing to take the field of battle as your Exalt, we shall do the same for our own people." Virion cut in, his voice suddenly turning stone cold from the fatigued and broken state he had resided in since we arrived in the room. For the first time I could see a bit of life flash in his eyes. It was a sign that the old Virion I knew was still in there, somewhere.

"We've got a month until we need to deal with this." I point out with finality. "In the meantime we need to focus on preparing. And you need to take a load off, 'Your Grace'. Before you have a heart-attack from stress."

Cherche smiles at my words, pacing about and taking hold of Virion by the elbow. "I'll make sure he actually gets some rest." She promises, Virion opening his mouth the protest before his wife covered it with a hand. Weakly flailing, the blue-haired man is swiftly dragged out of the room. He's so out of it he can't even properly resist… how long has he been at this?

"Sev, I actually need your help." Morgan points out, finally letting go of me. "Well, your help. And Subaki's. And Caeldori's. Roseanne's troops are good, but once we get more volunteers..."

"They're gonna need an instructor." I finish for her, the redhead's nod confirming my train of thought. "Well I can't fight for a while, now. I may as well make myself useful somehow." Out of the corner of my eye, I can see the War Cleric fidget on the spot. "I'll treat them right, don't think I'm some sort of sadist."

Blanche's smile curls downwards as she looks to Morgan for confirmation, which the short-girl quickly offers out. "Severa's one of the best swords-women I've ever seen. And she's actually a sweetheart, if you ignore the way she loves to insult everything."

"So ignore her most prominent feature." Blanche notes with a grumble, sighing to herself. "Fine. But I will oversee her actions."

Morgan nods in agreement, while I just grumble to myself. I guess I can add teacher to the list of jobs I've had in my life. Though why I need to have a babysitter again, I'll never know.


	9. C-8: Marital Counseling

In Nohr you rarely got to see the sun rise.

The weather usually had something to say about it. A convoy of storm-clouds pulled in across the skyline. Always took the sun and the light hostage, leaving everything below so cold and dark. Living in that Kingdom at first drove me nuts, it kept bringing back memories of the way Ylisse used to be. Sheets of soot and ash spread out as far as you could see, only a bit of light made it through only to make the world around us sanguine red.

Seeing the sun was a luxury, but going back to the past made me forget that. Out of all the things that could've spoiled me, it was the _sun_ that I started taking for granted. Nohr made me realize how much of a privilege it was all over again. For the longest time I'd refuse to even go to the surface, sticking in the underground cities and roadways that the Kingdom had developed. Anything to keep the old memories from coming back.

When we first marched on Hoshido, it was like stepping back into Ylisse once more. Green grass, lively animals, rays of sunlight all over. I remember the pit that formed in my stomach, thinking that it was a shame we were there to burn it all to the ground.

After that we tried to kill Corrin on those boats, the way the light bounced off of the ice and water. Flora's power still amazes me to this day, freezing an entire section of the ocean with ease like that. It was beautiful. Sad too, considering what we planned to do. But it all worked out in the end, thanks to Corrin's mercy streak.

Now here I am, still in the sun's domain. Sitting on this castle's roof as I see the orange orb slowly come over the bloodied horizon. Almost as if it's trying to tell me something. An omen for what's to come, maybe.

...Pfff, what a load of crap. Since when did I ever let fate decide what happens to me?

I'm not alone up here. My head's resting on top of my husband's shoulder. He looks just as pensive as I do, his perfect eyebrows furrowed together. Lips forming a terse line as his eyes scan the horizon. Even like this he still manages to keep up his effortless, perfect aura. Once you spend time with him though, you learn to catch a few of the cracks in his facade. Like how he blinks just a little bit quicker when he's nervous. Or how his finger traces a line back and forth in the palm of his hand. His breathing becomes slower too, I can feel his shoulder rise up and down at a steady and forced pace.

"You're worried." I say, breaking our prolonged silence. From the corner of my eye I can see him nod his head in admittance, prompting me to scoff and roll my eyes. "Well, you gonna tell me why or just hold me in suspense?"

He opens his mouth, then shuts it again. You can see his brain trying to process the right words for what he wants to say, as if he's been caught with no trousers on. "Do you… think we chose poorly? Staying here to help Virion, I mean. We could have just left for Ylisse and avoided another war."

"Since when did I marry someone who'd run from a fight?" I asked sarcastically, jabbing one of my fingers into his side and smirking at him. "Getting cold feet, Subaki? After Morgan's already commissioned us as her Captains?" Teasing him seems to work, at least a little bit. His breathing speeds up back to normal, his lips curling slightly into a smile.

But then they flip around, his head shaking as his freed hair waves down his back. My head lifts just as he turns to face me, taking a grip of my hand as he stares at me. "Selena. I need you to be honest with me. No sass, no snark. Do you feel like we pressured you into staying here?"

That came out of nowhere. The shock that's probably on my face lets him know that he's caught me completely off guard. "Ok, first of all, if you think either of you could force me into doing anything, you married the wrong girl." Subaki opens his mouth to respond, but I press my finger up against his lips. "Second, you don't get to ask me to not be snarky. Not when you've been strutting like a peacock again."

Flushing as red as our shared haircolor, Subaki's eyes shoot off to the side as he tries to regain some semblance of composure. He knows it's true, ever since he's been given an audience the vain dummy's been showing off to anyone and everyone who asks. Half the castle was already enamored with the mystery man who came from parts unknown. Publically he revels in it, but everytime I call him out in private…

Grinning from ear to ear, I pull my finger back and rest my free hand over his. "Third; no. I don't wanna risk you two again, but Viron needs _help._ He's my friend's father-in-law, and my mother would be livid if I didn't do something. Plus with my sister here, well... it's a good way for Caeldori to get to know my side of the family."

"Those two have been attached at the hip ever since we arrived, haven't they?" He observes, looking down at the courtyard stables. At the front we could see both of the girls in question, far out of earshot as they spoke in front of a blackened mount. Morgan's personal Pegasus, she named her Caeda after the old Altean Queen. Both of them seemed to be rather deep in whatever topic of the hour had come, hands waving with gestures to the pegasi, their weapons, the sky above and each other.

"Morgan told me she wanted to help give Caeldori a childhood." I explained, my own eyes darting down to view the two as what seemed to be Caeldori's form mounted the steed. "When we were her age, we never really had time to enjoy ourselves. So she's doing her best."

"At least they seem to be enjoying themselves." Subaki adds, grinning with pride as the girl kicked off and launched into the air for the first time since we arrived. Even from all the way up here we could hear Caeldori's cry of joy as she whipped up towards the sky. "Your sister's something else, you know that? Both of you act so differently, but you're still sisterly. Does that make sense?"

"I mean, I'd hope we act sisterly." I grumble in return, watching Morgan's pop up and down on the ground below as she signaled to the airborne rider. "She always took after our Dad more than I did, basically clung to his leg when we were growing up. Meanwhile I was stuck with _Mother_." The admittance feels like tar coming up my throat, shuddering at the thought.

"Why is it whenever you mention your mother you're either praising her endlessly or cursing her name?" He asks. "It's like you can't make up your mind if you love her or loathe her."

That statement's more on the nose than I hoped. "Can't I do both?"

"No Selena, most people don't do both. At least not with equal intensity."

"It's complicated." I say, trying to dismiss the topic from hand. "You try growing up under someone's shadow. Everyone always expected me to live up to her name, all the time. When I didn't, they talked like I was failing her personally. As if the only thing that should matter in my life was to be a copy of her."

"And that's her fault?" He asks, stunning me out of the blue like he always does. What's with the interrogation out of nowhere, since when did he get so picky with my childhood!? I don't bug him about _his_ relationship with _his_ parents!

"Yes! I mean, no! I mean, kind-of! I don't know!" I sputter out defensively. "Why're you even asking this? You didn't know what it was like when I grew up. Things were different!"

"Hrm. And I take it that I'll never get the full story about where you two came from? Even when I ask?" Subaki prods, taking his sight off of the two below us and gazing back at me. Whatever happiness we were sharing starts to shrivel up, the focus is completely off of the two beneath us now.

Without thinking I wither away from his grip, trying to build my wall back up before it comes all crumbling down. "It's-"

"Complicated, yeah." He finishes sighing in defeat as he turns back to look out over the horizon.

"I-I'm sorry…" I mutter out, feeling the warmth from before suck out of me and fly free in the early morning air.

"It's frustrating." He admits, his pensive disposition returning all over again. He never seems to get angry with me, just frustrated and disappointed. Which honestly makes me feel even worse, anyone else would just lose it after everything I've put him through. "I'm trying my best with what little I know, but you've never told me much of anything about your life before Nohr."

Another pit forms in my stomach, weighing me down against the stone we're sitting on. Have I really been holding out on him this long? Talking about my past was always hard to do, mostly because it was hard to explain. Being a time-travelling, world-crossing soldier was the sort of thing you only heard in fairy tales. If someone told me ten years ago that I'd do everything that I've… well, _done,_ I would've laughed in their face.

Still. That doesn't change much. Slowly, I take in a breath, steadying my nerves as I do my best to say what I can. My hands are shaking, just like when Caeldori asked me about my father in that dumb wagon we stole. "Yeah, yeah. I owe you an explanation, I guess. It's just… hard for me to talk about. You understand that right?"

"I just want to _know._ It's difficult for me to be a decent husband when you know everything about me, and I know next to nothing about you. _You_ understand _that,_ right?" Subaki states. Well, more like pleads. His voice strains with what I think is desperation. This really has been wearing on him...

Nodding, I open my mouth to begin. Better late than never.

* * *

My parents were both military figures in Ylisse. Growing up I had to spend most of my time playing with other kids like me instead of spending time with them. We had this big house out in the country, a gift that Lucina's father had given mine after the war with Plegia. Half the time we weren't there through, a lot of my early memories were filled with sleepovers in Ylisstol's castle.

Mother was legendary growing up. The entire world knew about the Knight-Captain Cordelia. The red-haired valkyrie who danced across the sky with such grace on her white steed. The pinnacle of perfection, everyone always called her. Smart, kind, clever, beautiful, skilled. No one could find anything wrong with her, the entire world looked up to her. She was just a paragon of everything right in the world.

Father was of the same caliber. Grandmaster of Ylisse, the Haildom's chief tactician and the Exalt's personal advisor. Robin was every bit as famous as his wife, and every bit as lauded. My father always carried himself a lot differently than my mother. While she was more outgoing, he kept to himself and his books. He was more openly cynical of the world around us, never one to trust things at face value.

My little sister took after Daddy rather quickly. As soon as she could walk and talk she forced herself under his wing. Of course she turned out to be a prodigy on top of that. Every bit as intelligent as Dad was, probably a bit more. Day after day of studying, practicing, training. Everything just came so easily to her. Swordplay, tactics, magic, riding. Every good trait that our parents had just concentrated itself into her.

Then there was me. The disappointment.

Mom and Dad never called me that. Doubt they believed it either. Much as I hate to admit it, both of them really were the best parents you could ask for. Whenever they weren't working, they were with us. Playing, teaching, providing. Making Morgan and I the center of their worlds. It was nice. Things were set up to be a pretty much an idyllic childhood.

I guess that me being a complete screw-up only that much harder. Even before Morgan fell under Dad, I naturally gravitated towards Mom. But try as I did, I couldn't ever live up to Mother's legacy. Sure, I could ride a pegasus and swing a lance. I could lob around fire from a tome and use a stave. Even with a sword I ended up surpassing Morgan by a country mile. But it was still never enough, I was only just Severa. Nothing special, not a prodigy or a genius. Just a kid who seemed to miss all the natural talent from both of her parents.

But the best part about being a kid was that it didn't feel like it _mattered_. I could just be myself, do what I liked and not care for it. I had my parents, my sister, my friends. A nice home to grow up in and never having to worry about going hungry. Everything was perfect.

Things changed when father died, though.

Morgan was still so young when it happened, I'm not sure she completely understood it. The older she got, the more she'd forget about him. More and more of what she knew about him was stories other people told her. I think that's what really drove her to follow him like she did. Not who Dad was, but the fairy tail he transformed into.

I was eight when word got to us, but I was old enough to not believe it actually happened. My father was supposed to be untouchable. Sure, he was a tactician first, but short of Chrom and Lon'qu he was the best swordsman in the Shepherds. Unlike either of them, he knew how to use magic too. Even dark tomes, most mages in Ylisse avoided them like they were the plague. Some of them probably **did** cause plague. The idea of him dying was impossible.

But out of us all, Mother really did take it the worst. Thinking back on it, it was foolish of me to think she ever married Father out of circumstance. His death destroyed her from the inside out. She just buried herself into her work. Day in and day out, dealing with the Risen as they appeared. Fighting bandits, going off galavanting with Chrom. Her work replaced her family. Trying to fill the void my stupid old man left by dying.

One day I finally lost it and started screaming at her. Right as she was walking out the door to go off on some new mission Chrom had sent down from on high. Cursing her for every reason I could think of. Shunning me away in place of her job, dedicating herself completely to a married man who would never see her the way she once saw him. I hated it, I hated **her** for everything that had happened. I told her that she loved Chrom more than she loved me. I didn't know what she was even fighting for anymore.

All she did was stare at me. Her eyes had long since lost the spark I grew up idolizing. The mother I knew was gone, lost to the sorrow of being a young widow. But in that brief moment, she came back. She placed her hand over her finger and slipped off her wedding ring, a white-gold band with a shining ruby sitting at the top. Carefully she took my hand, opened it, and placed the ring in my palm. She smiled at me, the only time she ever smiled since we received the news. She promised me that she was fighting for someone special to her. Then she wrapped her arms around my shoulders and embraced me. I didn't return it, I was too angry and confused to care.

With that, she walked out the door and left me. Standing there, staring at her back with tears running down my cheeks and a piece of jewelry in my hand.

She never came back. The Risen killed on that last campaign for the Haildom.

And all I had left was her ring and the guilt of my final words.

Things only went from bad to worse after that. The Risen started to overrun the continent. Chrom was killed by someone who I'd later find out to be my Grima-possed Father. All of the Shepherds were killed off until it was only the kids left. Each of us with a legacy to carry on our shoulders. But I could never live up to mine. My mother's shadow only grew after her death, and so did everyone's expectations of me. Expectations I tried… I _**try**_ to meet everyday. Just to live up to her name. Maybe then she'd finally be proud of me, and I could stop hating myself for what I told her.

Lucina was only fifteen when she was made Exalt. By that point half of Ylisse was gone, the Risen were getting closer and closer to the Capitol. Morgan stepped up to be her personal tactician, I took my place as her personal retainer. Her older advisors said I was a horrible choice. Just a loud-mouthed brat who wasn't half the knight her parents were. But she chose me. She had faith in _**me**_ , out of everyone else.

It still wasn't enough. Three years of nonstop fighting later, Grima still made it to Ylisstol. The entire city burned, almost everyone inside perished. Morgan, Gods we thought she died in the city's fall. The rest of us just ran to Mount Prism. When Naga told us about going back into the past, I didn't want to do it. It felt like we were running away. If we left, everyone we knew would die. Lucina and the Falchon were the last chance of saving our world.

Still, Lucina chose to go. And I followed her, like any good knight in shining armor would. Just like Mom did with Chrom. I followed my Exalt even when it would probably kill me. In the end, I guess I really did act like her daughter.

My last thoughts drifted to mother when I stepped through that portal. Did she ever have doubts? Following the man who'd gotten the love of her life killed? Everyone knew it wasn't his fault, but did she blame him? Just a little? Did she ever question her place in the world like I did?

Maybe she did. Maybe deep down she wanted to just give up and let the world fall apart. Let Chrom fall and spend her last days with her family.

Or maybe it's just where my family belonged. At the sides of Ylisse's leader.

* * *

After baring all to Subaki, I ran back down to our room and passed out until noon. Talking about the past was nothing short of exhausting, even when I didn't have to move an inch.

Gods, I feel like a wreck. Even when I'm just lying here and staring up at the stone. Every single time I think about the way things used to be it happens. Why is it so easy for me to fall apart like this? I'm not the only person in the world who's gone through bad stuff. I know that the others handle this so easily. So why can't I, damn it? After everything I've seen and done can I really not move on?

My head's banging like a drum. Five hours of shut-eye and I still don't feel any better. I thought sleeping was supposed to be relaxing, not mind-rattling. Ugh… ok, ok. Get up out of the bed. One leg, two legs… good! Woah, ok. Steady, stay on your feet. Where's that cane? I know I put it- oh crap, it's by the closet. Why did I put it by the closet?! You know what? Forget it, I don't need a dumb stick to help me walk.

Right. So far so good, I'm out of my room and at the stairs. Just need to make my way down a couple of flights. Shouldn't be that hard. Just go slow, one step after the other.

One, two, three, fou-

" **AAAH!"** I yelp out as I slip, landing on my hip and crumbling on the stone. I don't roll down at least, just lay there limply as I try to prop myself back up with my elbows. Over the ringing of my head I can hear a pair of feet rushing up the spiral towards me. Looks like someone was waiting for this to happen. Great, I love looking like a fool.

I manage to edge myself over to the wall of the staircase, resting against it and muttering curses under my breath. I swear I'm gonna get Morgan for this. When are my legs finally going to work the way they're supposed to again? It's been two weeks since I got zapped, this shouldn't be permanent. Right? _Right?_

I'm so deep in my own self-pity that it takes something grabbing me and dragging me up to shake me out of it. I look to see that my guardian angel is no one other than my ever punctual husband, shining his ever so _perfectly punchable_ smile down at me. As if he has something to smile about.

"Of course you didn't use the cane like the Priests told you too." He observes, guiding me upwards back towards our room as I press my hand against the wall to my right.

"Eat dirt, ponytail." I spit back, shoving him away from me as we make it back to the door of our quarters. He's laughing at me as I limp in, grab the cane, and hobble back out, still keeping up that self-assured grin. With a flash of my middle finger and a glare, I start to make my way back down the staircase.

"Well someone seems cranky." Subaki calls as he makes his way to my flank, keeping pace with my slowed movements as we make our way down. "Dare I say that's the first time I've ever seen you make such an _obscene_ gesture. Is your lady-like demeanor crumbling so quickly?"

"I dunno, Subaki. Did Niles' sadist streak rub off on you?" I query as we reach the bottom of the spiral, walking our way down a straight hallway with another flight at the end.

"You've laughed at graver injuries sustained by others, Selena." He countered. "I should be the one asking you that."

"That's different, those were nobodies!" I protest ferferently, throwing my free hand up into the air as I speak "I'm your wife! You're supposed to treat me like a princess and cater to my every whim!"

All he does is roll his eyes, wagging a finger back and forth. "You're describing a butler, not a spouse. Perhaps you should have married Jakob if those were your desires."

That little comment just gets me to gag out of reflex. "Ugh, _no._ Not even as a joke. Nothing could get me near that jerk. He'd rather get under my skin then cater to my whims."

Subaki tuts and shakes his head, still maintaining that infuriating smile. "Hm, what a shame. Seems you're stuck with me then." He finishes, clearly pleased with himself as I groan in defeat. "I'm just glad I was there to help you, Morgan warned me that you would try to venture off without a guide."

"I'm. Fine." I force out through gritted teeth, my ungloved hand gripping the handle of my walking-stick with a disparate amount of force.

"No, you aren't. If anything I should be taking you back down to the castle's hospice so you can be treated further." As we reach the staircase, he moves down a step and offers me a hand down the steps. "Now, swallow your pride and let me help you. Unless you'd like to trip yourself down another flight?"

"Gods, I can't stand you…" I grumble out, lifting my hand up and taking ahold of his before we start to move down the next flight. "Thanks, I guess."

"You're welcome, my dear." He answers with a soft bow of his head. "And thank _you_ for answering my questions about your past. I realize that it was taxing."

"I'm not the first girl to suffer, I won't be the last." I dismiss cleanly, recalling my earlier train of thought and moving down with a renewed urgency as he brought the conversation from the morning back to the forefront. "It's not an excuse and it isn't a crutch."

"Hm. Perhaps." He concedes. "Or perhaps you're viewing it the wrong way."

"What do you mean 'the wrong way'?" I reply, grip tightening around his hand as I almost lose my footing "I have issues, I need to deal with them. And I need to stop shoving my problems onto other people."

"One, you're not shoving them onto others. I explicitly asked you tell me. Two, that's not what I meant." He continued to explain as we reached the bottom of the stairs, halting so that I would heed his words. "Wounds can be mental as well as physical. A scar in your mind can be more damaging than, say, a scar on your back."

"How topical of you." I growl out dryly, annoyed at his reference to my disability. "But what are you getting at?"

"The only way you'll be able to come to terms with this is if you stop feeling weak about your trauma. Physical and mental." He continues. "In Hoshido we tried to help people in your position through Monks and meditation-"

"I'm not sitting on my arse and 'clearing my mind' before you try and suggest that."

"Let me finish." He orders, before taking a breath. "Confiding in people may help you come to terms with what happened. It might let you finally be at peace."

"Oh, yeah. That's a great idea." I agree sarcastically, waving him off and wandering my way towards the main hall of the castle. "Tell everyone about my horrible childhood. Throw a pity party for poor old Severa. Or Selena. Or whatever they'll call me. Little Miss Brain Damage would probably be my new nickname."

"You're being crass." Subaki answered, rushing forwards to reach my side once more. "And no, I'm not saying to tell everyone. Just people you trust. Like myself, Caeldori, your sister and friends…"

"Not happening. I'm not turning myself into a festival sideshow. Having people roll up just to hear the freak whine."

"So you'd rather bottle this all up instead of try and heal?"

For the first time I actually feel envious of Morgan. Even with her memories partially restored she can't remember the worst parts of our past. Blissful ignorance, maybe that's why she's able to keep up such a peppy attitude. "Short of losing my memory, I doubt I _can_ heal. It's part of who I am."

Ever persistent in his endeavors, Subaki keeps pressing the issue even after my prolonged protests. "And it always will be, I know enough about war to understand that much. But if you keep on like this it won't be part of you, it will _define_ you."

A roll of the eyes. "And talking to people will fix that?"

A shake of the head. "Talking to people will let you process it. Hopefully it will also teach you that acting brave isn't the same as actual bravery."

"You really want to be smacked today, don't you?" I ask, half hoping I'm given an excuse to do just that.

"What I really want is my wife to stop acting like this is something to be ashamed of. You're no fool, you know everything I've said is right." Silently, I just keep moving forwards, about to walk into the main hall before his arm pops out in front of me and forces me to stop in my tracks. "Just; promise me at the least, whenever things become too much, you know I'm by your side. Alright?"

He really isn't going to let me off the hook for this, is he? No, of course not. He has that determined glare aimed down at me. It's the same look he has whenever we're about to get into a scrape. How annoyingly resolute of him.

But at least it's nice to know someone cares. I suppose married people should rely on each other. "...Fine. If I ever think I'm about to lose it, I'll find you. Alright?"

With that, Subaki smiles and lowers his arm. "Wonderful. Now, can we go into town and find some lunch? I was waiting for you and I'm rather famished."

The voices of the homeless residence behind the door echo out to us both before I can reply. Followed by a loud crash as something falls harshly to the ground. Both of us force the door open to look inside, trying to see what was happening beyond.

The normally peaceful hall had devolved into a brawl between the guards and civilians against a group of hooded figures rushing forwards through the keep. Five of them to be precise, each of them attempting to shove and cut their way through their obstacles.

I sigh in defeat as the new problem falls in our lap. "Well, so much for lunch."


	10. C-9: Blood on the Risers

Subaki takes a flask off of his hip, tossing to me before he darts in the direction of the oncoming brawl. I catch it pretty easily, somehow don't even manage to drop the thing before pulling the cork out and giving it's contents a whiff. The stench makes me want to wretch, it's like someone mixed rotten eggs with month-old fish. Still, I bring it to my lips and drain the liquid inside before my stomach overpowers my brain.

Vulnerary. Gods, it tastes horrible going down the hatch. But it'll be enough to let me fight, at least for as long as I need to.

The potion goes work pretty fast, my the tension I'd felt in my back melts like butter in a hot pan. For the first time in what seems like forever, I feel almost like myself. Still a bit stiff, my spine stings as I try to stretch myself out, but better than the past few weeks. I take my walking stick up with a single hand, holding it like a club and pacing my way forwards through the stampeding crowd. Even with the medicine in my system I need to be careful, one wrong move and I just might making my injury even worse than it was before.

Turns out the big fight isn't all that big, in fact it's really just three smaller ones mixed into the panic.

At the far left is a one of the infiltrators grappling with a guard, both of them fighting over the soldier's spear like two pigs in a mud-pit. Subaki runs to the center of the room, tearing another cloaked man off of an injured townie who bit off more than he could chew. A bit off from him is a third brigand, he's already being dog-piled by a bunch of the hall's denizens. The close right has a pair of kids trying to help up a wounded guard, what looks to be a long knife punching out from her shoulder and red dribbling out onto the ground beneath her. The rest of the room is filled out by people either too weak or too scared to throw themselves into the mix.

One of the five were already missing from sight, but I don't have time to worry about them now. There were other guards around, and the people in front of me needed help.

The kids, Severa. Save the kids and the girl.

As I make my approach towards the kids, the assassin draws another knife out from beneath their cloak. One of them, a boy with cropped hair, stands in front of the fallen guard with arms outstretched. He's trying to be a hero and he doesn't even look ten. All the while the girl is trying to pull the fallen soldier back up to her feet. You can hear the groans of effort as she struggles to stand her up straight.

Their attacker's still advancing, step by step as they bring their knife up and get ready to plunge it into the boy.

Unfortunately, they weren't paying attention to the angry redhead with a big wooden stick coming up from behind.

The first time I strike, Im trying to knock them out. It didn't work, instead my target just fell on their knee.

The second time I'm going for the side of their head, that one sends them sprawling onto their back.

The third time is to keep them down. I keep telling myself that I can't let him hurt anyone else.

Then I strike a fourth time. Then a fifth, then a six, a seventh… I just keep hitting again and again. Watching someone draw a weapon on children just triggered something inside me, sort of primal anger. Or maybe my new maternal instinct was showing itself. Now that I had a kid of my own, seeing any child at the business end of a blade sets me off. At least, that's what I'm telling myself is driving this beating.

All I know is by the time I was done, my brown wooden cane has a thick coat of fresh red paint. So does the cobblestone surrounding my unfortunate opponent. Their jaw was less broken and more _powderized,_ bone and teeth sticking out helter-skelter. Same with their nose, too. Their chest is still moving, means I didn't kill them. Still, I went way too overboard. Doubt this poor dastard's ever going to be able to eat again.

As I get up from my display of force, my eyes focus upon the three people I intervened to save. The guardswoman's just leaning up against a column, the knife's still in her shoulder. But her eyes are wide with either shock, awe or fear. Hell, it's probably all of the above. The boy had already run off, where to I didn't know. Meanwhile the girl was just staring at the gnarly mess I'd made.

I grab the cloak off of what's left of the man and toss it over his mouth, the fabric turning crimson as it absorbed the red that poured out. The scene was a little less horrific now. Both here and in the rest of the hall. From the corner of my eye I could see Subaki tying his opponent like a wild boar, Gods knows where he found the rope. In the far distance the soldier had long-since sent his polearm through the final infiltrator's chest, whatever life was once in his body having disappeared. And the fourth guy? He was already being dragged into the center of the hall, head limply hanging down.

So I pace myself over to the wounded woman, groaning as I can already feel the stress affecting the small of my back. Once again the little girl's head adjusts, this time ogling me with the same blank fear that she had ogled the half-dead body behind me. Silently I lift a finger and point towards the door, mouthing the word 'Cleric'. She seems to comprehend, slowly nodding before rushing off to and through the exit.

All that's left is to try and help this woman. As I take a knee, I absorb her appearance into memory. Long green hair with complimenting blue eyes, a kettle hat resting on her head along with her lavender cloth and steel cuirass. Blood's dripping from the side of her mouth, but I doubt it's anything internal. The dagger didn't hit an artery, or else she'd have a lot more sanguine pouring out from her.

"I'm gonna skip asking if you're OK and just assume you're not. Sound good?" I ask dryly, taking her helmet off and tossing it over to the side. That seems to snap her out of her daze enough, she's at least laughing at my bad joke. I start to pat her down, looking for some kind of medical supplies on her person. "Gotta admit this is pretty embarrassing. Having your butt saved by two kids and a hospital patient."

"Please. Woulda wiped the floor with'im if y'all didn't get in my way." She quips, getting a few more chuckles out before wincing as I take hold of the knife's handle. "Ow! Hey, easy! I don't wanna end up like that fella!" She requests, laughing again as her head just rests against the steel column. I'm already starting to like this girl, she's got a good attitude.

"Well, glad you got a front-row seat to see my handiwork. Always like to entertain the lazy." Out of the corner of my eye I can see she's going to answer back, that's when I rip the blade out of her quickly. A quick, sharp cry shakes the room around us before she pipes down again. Meanwhile I just drop the weapon to the ground and return to patting her form down for supplies. "Don't you Roseanne types keep vials on you?"

"Concoction's on the other hip, ma'am." She huffs out, pressing her hand over the now open wound. Like I figured, it's not leaking too bad. Dagger ended up going up against the bone more then slicing through tissue.

With a grunt, I slip a hand to the other side and take the flask off from her belt. Without my asking she pops her mouth open. I pour half of the stuff into her mouth, then the other half down into the wound after I move her hand. "So, do you have a name? Actually, no. I'm gonna call you pincushion, it seems to fit."

Another snort, before yet another reply. "Gwen, ma'am. Short fer Gwendolyn."

"Sounds familiar." I note, placing the now empty flask on the ground before I draw my own dagger and start cutting the cloth away from the injury. Give the skin more room to breath, and less of a chance for infected blood to seep back into the gash. "I'm-"

"Cap'n Severa. I know." She finishes for me, smacking her lips together. "I was one-a the soldiers who done dragged ya back to the prison carriage."

"Riiight, that's where I remember you from. You're the smart-alec who said they were going to drown me." I grumble, sheathing my weapon and sitting myself down next to the wounded warrior. She spoke like a farmgirl, acted like a common thief and dressed like a soldier. Interesting combination.

"Hey now, I said I was gonna _let_ you drown. Not drown ya. Big difference." She points out, grinning shamelessly at me as she returns to putting pressure up against the wound itself. "In my defense, no self-respectin' girl wants puke all o'er her uniform."

"Uh huh." I deadpan, hands resting in my lap. Again I check to my side so I can see what's going on. The rest of the hall's residents have recovered from the shock, clearly avoiding my gore-splattered spectacle and gravitating towards helping the old woman and Subaki. A few even went over to the far end of the hall, trying to assist the other guard. "Well at least you know I'm your new boss."

"Technically, you ain't. My boss is Miss Blanche, even if she is more religious folk then soldier." Gwen chimed, going out of her way to correct every detail I said. For a hayseed, she seemed smart enough. Even if she was lacking in the tact department. "But you still outrank me, so I'll call ya Cap'n. Fer now."

"I'm touched." I grumble, my head shooting up as the doors behind us burst back open. The girl from before rushes forward with a pair of healers. The boy's back as well, he's joined by a trio of new guards as they move to secure the room and pacify the crowd. Sensing my work was done, I grabbed hold of my cane and started wiping the handle clean.

The smell of iron danced up into my nose, another grim reminder of what happens when I lose my temper. Something was stirring in me still, long after the action had subsided. Like a fire in my stomach whenever I got sent into combat. It felt… _good._ Just clobbering that idiot into paste. It was wrong, but it still felt so fun. I felt alive, happy even. Like I had just won a foot-race and I was still in my runner's high.

"Something funny?" A voice said, shaking me out of my own thoughts. Subaki wanders over, clapping his hands together to get rid of whatever grime was plastered on his gloves after the brawl. "Your cane's covered in… is that _**blood?"**_ He exclaims, the red dribbling down the side of my walking aid and dripping down onto the floor.

"Not mine." I point out, continuing the scrub the thing clean before using it as it was intended once more. "I don't have my sword, remember? I made due."

"Rinkah would approve, I suppose." He grumbled as he involved the club-brandishing tribal's image, before gesturing to the exit out to the courtyard. "Come, Caeldori is waiting for us."

"What." I nearly stumble over myself. "Why?"

"Because that wasn't the only group of assailants who made their way in here. She and Morgan dispatched another gaggle attempting to enter via the rear." He clarifies, holding the door open so I could slip through it. My muscles were starting to ache all over again, sooner or later the vulnerary was going to wear off. Then I wasn't going to be much use in a fight.

We make our way outside to the courtyard, the two fliers in question standing at the ready in front two mounts. The black one is Caeda I think, the white one I've never seen before. Caeldori's got her hands on its snout, petting it softly. In her own world again, daydreaming about pegasi.

"How's the hall?" Morgan asks immediately, looking over our shoulder at the exit we just left from.

"One got away." I point out immediately, moving past my sister at a brisk pace and tapping Caeldori on the shoulder. As my daughter snaps around, I let my still stained cane fall to the ground and hoist myself up onto the saddle.

"And what exactly are you doing?" She questions. Well, more interrogates. One day back at flying and she's already gotten overly protective of the horses. Wonderful.

" _We_ , are gonna scan the compound for our missing crook." I clarify, scooting backwards enough to give Caeldori room to take control.

"You think he didn't try to flee? We already caught all of his other friends." Morgan chimes as she moves over to mount her own steed, taking the reigns and giving them a tug. Caeda starts flapping her wings softly, preparing to launch herself into the sky. "I take it you handled the guys in the hall?"

"Captured three, a guard killed the fourth." Subaki informs, before spinning about. "Speaking of which, I'll go bring our guests somewhere where Cherche can have a few words with them when she comes down." With that, before I could agree or disagree with the idea, he already took off back to the hall. Seems he still hasn't learned from when we came back to this world.

"I suppose that means he's letting us girls do the heavy lifting? I guess chivalry really is dead." Morgan quips, pausing in a hover above us for a brief moment. "I'll check the city from the sky! You and Caeldori check out the keep!" She instructs. Then, just like Subaki, _she_ takes off before I can voice any protest. A plume of black feathers swirling around.

Seriously, what am I? Chopped pig's liver?

"Suppose that's just us, then." I growl in annoyance, much to my daughter's amusement as she mounts our ride. We're airborne in a second, already shooting up into the air above the castle at a breakneck pace.

* * *

I can't even remember the last time I've ridden a Pegasus like this.

Well, I can. Though I _wish_ I couldn't.

It was back in my timeline. I was still trying to join the pegasus knights. At that point Mom and Dad had both been dead for years. Morgan was already making a name for herself in Ylisse, everyone thought she was Robin's perfect little prodigy. She already proved herself to be a scarily capable tactician, and she was only _ten._ Meanwhile my fifteenth birthday passed and still wasn't showing much promise.

The Pegasi hated me. Every time I ever tried to get on top of one, it'd be like trying to tame them from the wild. Didn't matter which one I rode, what time of day, what style I tried to use. They never listened to my commands as well as they should have, I had to fight them on the ground and in the air. More then once I almost fell to an early death trying to get them to do as I wanted.

It wasn't like I didn't know why. Pegasi were extremely in tune with the feelings of the rider. If you were happy, they were happy. Sad? They felt your sorrow. Scared? They wouldn't move an inch until you calmed yourself down. Mad? They'd refuse to even let you get near them, like you were plague ridden.

And I was mad then. At everyone.

Mad at my parents for dying. Mad at Morgan for showing me up at every little thing. Mad at the world for forcing me to take Mother's place. Mad at myself for constantly failing my family again and again.

Hell I was even mad at Lucina. Her father was the reason my parents were dead, they both died **serving him**. It wasn't her fault, she loved my parents almost as much as I did. They were like an aunt and uncle to her. But Chrom had been dead for years at this point, and I needed a new target for my ire. Back then, kicking Cynthia around felt like smacking a puppy.

But Lucina? The perfect, smart, pretty Princess of the realm? Well, she reminded me just a bit too much of the man who cost me everything. Friend or not, it wasn't something I could easily forgive.

It was just another night in the outskirts of Ylisstol. I was wrestling another new mount that Cynthia had let me borrow from the stables. We left at dusk, when half the sun was still visible. The moon was high in the air at this point, and I was covered in a new swath of cuts and bruises. Another night of failure.

Just when I was about to try and lead us back to the city, I could hear something approaching.

My first instinct was Risen, they were making deeper incursions into the Halidom every day. I drew my sword out, stepped between the sound and my horse, and kept the tip aimed forwards. Sure, I couldn't ride a Pegasus properly yet, but I knew how to handle a blade better than most.

To my surprise, it wasn't that at all. It was a certain blue-haired princess, way too far out from her throne.

"Wh-?" I started exclaiming, freezing in place before I sheath my weapon. My surprise was quickly overtaken by both fear and worry. I went forwards, grabbing her by the scruff of her cape and pulling her back over towards my mount. "Are you daft, Lucy!? What in the world are you doing out here!?"

"Looking for _you_." She pointed out, grabbing hold of my hand and yanking her cape free of my grip. Her eyes pierced through me, even when she was younger she had that same commanding presence that her ancestors developed. That brand in her eye burned through me, keeping me still as she retorted. "Do you see how late it is? Cynthia's worried sick, Morgan wanted me to send a search team before I left!"

"Then maybe you should've listened to her?" I shot back, resting a hand on the hilt of my blade as I scanned our surroundings. Risen could pop out from anywhere, having the soon-to-be Exalt out in the dark like this was beyond idiotic. "You went after me alone. Do you have a death wish?"

"I should be asking you that!" Lucina answered, a vein pulsing from her forehead. "This isn't even the first time you've done this! For Gods' sake, Severa! You can't keep training into the dark like this!"

"In case you forgot, 'your grace', **we're in a war.** " I point off into the horizon behind us, away from Ylisstol and off towards what was sure to be a horde of Risen somewhere on the continent. "The living dead are literally coming to kill us! I can't protect the country if I'm not ready!"

"Are you-" My opponent cuts herself off, taking in a long breath to try and calm herself. "Severa, you're no use to anyone if you get killed. Think of how Morgan would react. Or Cynthia. Or me!"

"Why the hell do you care?" I dismissed, turning around and mounting my pegasus. I slipped my feet into the stirrups, taking both of the reigns into my hands. "I'm just the orphan of a few dead Army officers. You're Royal of the whole nation. Get your priorities straight."

"My friends are always one of my priorities." She affirmed, hand tightening around the grip of Falchion. She was still training with the damn thing, and it already looked natural on her hip even back then. Gods. "Now, can we please go home?"

With a roll of the eyes, and an extension of a hand, I allowed it. Pulling the woman up and letting her sit behind me. When her hands wrapped themselves around my waist, I could feel my cheeks flare up a deep red. Lucina always emanated warmth from her, that aura made so many people always want to follow her into oblivion. I wasn't much different, my emotions around her were a mess _before_ Mom and Dad died. After that, every time I saw her my gut split in half..

It took a bit, but we managed to get airborne, and rode back off towards home.

* * *

"Are you sure he's going to come up here Mother?"

Caeldori and I were laying down on top of the roof, next to the window of a certain bedroom near the highest point of the keep. We were doing our best to keep out of sight for now, waiting to see if my suspicions were correct or not about. If I was wrong, then odds were the coward did run off like Morgan said.

Or maybe, just maybe, he had a certain target in mind.

"No, dear. I'm not sure at all." I admit, speaking in a softened tone to avoid bringing undue attention to our position. "But if there's one thing I've learned, it's to trust my gut."

And my gut was telling me they were here for something very particular.

I ruled out the chance of them being assassins. They were too lightly armed and not even good enough in a scrape to get past the Virion or Cherche's personal entourage, let alone Virion or Cherche themselves. The Duke wasn't even here, he was off trying to get more recruits for the militia for the coming battle. Cherche was spending the day with her cousin trying to take care of the starving and wounded on the castle grounds.

They weren't thieves either. Thieves don't charge in the front door trying to set up distractions for second teams. Cutthroats and brigands were all in it for the same thing; lining their own pockets. The idea that anyone would volunteer for a job that was certain to get them captured or killed was a laugh.

They had to be military of some kind to even have a plan this bold. And their target had to be something, or someone, separated from the rest of the castle, usually guarded but unable to defend itself, and worth tossing eight men at.

That's when I hear it, the soft sound of footsteps hitting the roof in front of us.

Caeldori and I peak our heads forward to spot the rogue in question creeping his way forward to the window, back facing both of us. Grinning from ear to ear, I draw out my dagger from my vest. I flip it over, holding it by the tip and eying my target.

"You seem to be enjoying yourself." Caeldori comments from the side. I don't turn to look at her, but her voice almost sounds frightened at my current state. I've got the right to be happy, this numbskull showing up here validated that I was right. I out-thought _Morgan_ of all people, that wasn't something I could gloat about every day.

As the figure began to slowly clamber up through the window, I pulled my hand back and lined up the shot. We're a good distance away, if I miss this he's gonna be able to make a break for it. And Caeldori already shoo'd her ride away so it wouldn't give us up.

For once in my life, I need everything to go as I want it to.

I take a breath, close my eyes, and steel myself.

Then I send my hand flying forward, eyes bursting wide again.

A feminine cry pierces the sky as the steel sinks right into the upper-right forearm of the her back, causing her to tumble over and smash into the room.

Not even waiting for Caeldori's response, I kick forward and rush over, giddy as a school girl. It worked! I got her! All those knife-throwing lessons from Felicia finally paid off! Now to just collar this witch and get her sent to the dungeon.

"Mother, wait!" I hear from behind me as I bring myself inside. No point in waiting, we need to get her tied up and out of here before the kid starts getting scared. Landing on my feet, I start to scan the room.

That's when I realize Caeldori wasn't asking me to wait for her, she was trying to warn me.

Something heavy gets broken over the top of my head as soon as I get inside, and I tumble over like a bag of bricks. My vision starts going double immediately, and before I can even try to register what's going on, I'm being flipped over onto my back.

Standing above me is the wounded skulker, knife still lodged in her arm. A practice sword's held in her off hand, the thing worn and scraped from overuse. Plus it has a fresh dent in it made from my diamond hard skull. She brings it down as second time on my stomach, knocking what little wind I had left in me back out.

The vulnerary was already wearing off before I this, now it felt like I hadn't taken any at all. The fire in my back returns in force, matched with the new bruise formed over my stomach. Dazed, off kilter and stunned. Everything went from going great to going terribly in five seconds flat. Story of my life.

Right as she lifts the practice sword up to give me another thwack, Caeldori finally made her entrance. And a rather grand entrance it was.

My daughter threw herself into the window and tackled my assailant to the ground, catching _her_ as off-guard as she caught me. Maybe she didn't think I had help? She should've heard Caeldori call out to me when I hopped through.

Not that I'm gonna complain about good fortune. As I lift my head up I can see Caeldori already straddling the woman and sending a few jabs right at her jaw. Just like she had to that merc at the start of our little journey here in Valm. Until finally, I could hear her opponent call out for mercy.

With one last smack, seemingly rendering her living punching bag unconscious, Caeldori detached herself and moved to my side. "Can you please, _please_ listen to me when I say something?" I hear her plead into my ringing ears. Normally I'd say something smart in response, but my fresh headache dissuaded me from my usual antics. All I could do was grumble a non-committed agreement.

Then out of the corner of my eye, I see a blur start shuffling out from under the bed.

A small, blue haired boy with soft eyes staring fearfully at the three strange people who had come into his room. In this world he didn't know me yet, he probably wouldn't until this new conflict was said and done. But seeing him still hit me hard, the same way seeing all the younger versions of ourselves did.

"Gerome. Back under your bed." I command, weakly lifting a hand and shoo-ing him away. He didn't need to see this. The entire reason we came back was to make sure no one ever needed to see this kind of stuff ever again.

With a quick nod, the toddler silently scuttled himself back under just as quickly as he appeared. It was like he was never there to begin with.

"Get… get her tied up, then grab some guards to get her downstairs." I tell Caeldori, wrenching myself free and setting myself up against the wall of the room. It was a nice place, grand for a child. The bed is three times my size, let alone his. Toys scatter across the room and burst from a chest. A wooden rocking horse rests near the door, surrounded by a desk and parchment.

"And leave you here?" Caeldori asks, like I requested she throw me into the mouth of a dragon.

"What is she gonna do when you tie her up, bleed on me?" I point out. "I can't help you bring her down, get some people who can."

"And what about _you?_ You can barely stand!" She continues, but she's already grabbed the rope from her hip and made her way back atop our prisoner.

"Then you better get me a healer before this concussion really starts affecting me." I manage out. Good, at least my sense of humor is surviving this constant brain damage I keep thrusting onto myself.

Shaking with frustration, Caeldori throws her hands up and finishes with the bindings. "Sometimes I really question if I'm actually the daughter of someone so reckless." She states, pushing herself back to a stand and glowering at me. She's upset, and she has the right to be, but her eyes betray the same worry she always has whenever I end up getting hurt.

I'll admit, that last comment hit a bit home. Being chastised by my own flesh and blood isn't something anyone likes. It was almost like she was ashamed of the fact that she _was_ my daughter.

"Well unless your father slept with another redhead in Corrin's army, you're stuck with me dear." I manage out, trying to hide my hurt with another sarcastic joke. Reckless really the best adjective to describe me. Even all these years after training in those fields after dark, I still kept making boneheaded decisions. Old dogs can't really learn new tricks. Even when the dog wasn't even in her thirties yet.

"Now are you going to get that healer or what?"


	11. X-1: Master and Commander I

Five years of peace had done Ylisstol many favors.

The city's structure had been rebuilt completely from the Second and Third Plegian wars. The rubble had long since been cleared, abandoned buildings long since returned to. Life poured from the city, be it through shops or music or pedestrians. Horses carrying goods and children running about playing amongst themselves. Gendarmes stood at the gates, doing their sentry and speaking with the populace.

Safety and prosperity came back to the people, ushered on by the royals now at the helm of the Halidom. The memories of Grima were just that; memories. Cautionary tales and bedtime terrors told to young ones to not commit bad deeds. The only scars left of the war itself were the memories that it's veterans held onto. The destruction, the death, the devastation. It wasn't the reality anymore, and it was something all were thankful for.

Those memories drove it's people to better their homes, and to better what surrounded them. Ylisse had become far more involved in the world than it had under Emmeryn, keeping up diplomatic channels with nations not only on Archenea, but even as far as Valm, Jugdral and Elibe.

Chrom rebuilt the nation's military from the ground up, turning it into a modern force and quadruple the size that his sister ever allowed. Full divisions, garrisons and even expeditionary groups. Sumia handled the economic side of things, overseeing the rebuilding of roads, farms, mines and towns. The seven duchies within the Halidom all tied to the central heart of the nation; Ylisstol. The shining city that gave life to it all.

But nothing is always happily ever after.

* * *

"I should keelhaul you both." Natalia growled out, marching through the courtyard of the barracks at a swift and enraged pace. Coils of smoke could be imagined puffing from her ears, the hands she held behind her back clenched behind her length of steel colored hair. Bronze colored iron armor encased her upper body, a similar colored open-topped helm and visor resting on her head.

Two girls followed behind her, making a stubby 'V' as they stomped upon the grass. One was a brown haired girl, spectacles framing her small and plain features as panic presented itself. The other's hair was a jet black, her skin tone and temperament far darker and subdued. Both wore steel-grey armor and closed off helmet topping their own heads.

"Sergeant, in our defense-" One of the girls behind her began, stuttering out loud as her glasses nearly slipped down her nose. The things would've fallen to the ground if she didn't catch them, squeaking meekly as they fell into her grasp.

" **Your defense is moot."** The Falcon Knight roared back, not even bothering to look at the two behind her as they pressed on. A few heads from the windows above them popped to see what the ruckus was about, followed by a few giggles as the spectators caught onto the premise of the show.

"Great. Now the whole Squadron's going to know." The other knight grumbled, shooting a glare upwards to the peanut gallery. It didn't help any, the observers merely waved back. Each of them wore a pleased as their comrades in arms were marching off.

"The Squadron? I'm about to drag you in front of the Captain, and you're worried about the _Squadron?_ " Natalia continued, lifting a hand and snapping her fingers to focus the pair's attention forwards once more. "Should I even bother asking what in the hell you two were thinking?"

"W-we were just trying to do the right thing." The glasses toting girl stammered, cowed by the clear and present rage.

As they passed under an archway that opened up an entrance back into the interior of the complex, their senior stopped and turned around. Both her boots clicking loudly, an echo shaking the room. For the two troopers it felt like reality itself bent as the sound crashed around them. The start of the end of their worlds.

"You let a thief escape. _After_ the Gendarmes contracted us to assist them." Natalie chastised, tone as sharp and cold as a sword's blade. Again one of the knights attempted to speak, again the Sergeant cut her off. "Do you realize even the damage you two have caused? You made the law keepers of the city lose their faith in us. When our aid is requested, we do _not_ make hair brained decisions like this."

"He stole a loaf of bread and they were gonna take his hand for it, Sarge." The darker trooper grumbled defensively, hand resting on her hip. "We're supposed to be protecting people, not crippling'em."

Her compatriot nodded in agreement, glasses sliding down her nose once more. "He didn't even hurt anyone! When we showed up he didn't even try to fight us off!"

"Maybe because you're two soldiers in armor on mounts." Natalia deadpanned, sighing in defeat as her shoulders slumped. Her eyes at that moment may have betrayed her true feelings on the matter, but she had her own duties to fulfill. "It doesn't matter. We're wasting time."

Down another hall and up another flight of stairs, the trio found themselves standing in front of a large oak door, a pair of ornate golden wings framed upon it. With a rap of the knuckles, Natalia called into the room and awaited a response.

Surprisingly, all that happened was the door slowly opened to reveal an empty office. Not a soul resided inside it's walls. Three chairs sat unused in front of a grand redwood desk, a chair cut from the same tree resting behind it. Stacks of paperwork rested on the right side, each neatly set up into prim and straight towers. An unlit candle rested in front of the open window, natural light beaming around it. The walls were lined with shelves of books; tactical treatise, movement plans, logs, rosters and a few casual page-turners.

"Captain Volkner?" The Sergeant called in, doing a simple sweep of the room with her eyes. Pondering for a moment, she simply slipped inside and allowed the two women to follow her. "Sit down, both of you. She'll return soon enough."

"I-is it wise to go inside without the Commander's permission?" The brunette trooper questioned, her compatriot not showing a similar hesitation as she moved inside and sat herself in the nearest chair.

"You're not getting out of this that easy, MacIntyre. Now **get in here."** Natalia barked, jutting a finger to the empty chair.

More afraid of her present company then reprimand from their leader, the meek girl compiled at speed. Rushing from the doorframe to the designated seating at a speed that would make most myrmidons blush.

Grunting in approval, their senior began to pace back and forth behind the two as they waited for their audience to begin. Both girls just melted into their chairs, the finality of their situation sinking into both all at once.

"If it was up to me-" Natalia began, keeping up her strides. "I'd have you both sent north to Friga so you can send the next year _freezing_ about what you've done. The Feroxi need more help watching the Longfort."

"You mean they need more punching bags for their border guards." The stoic girl quipped.

The falcon knight paused, leveling a malicious glare at the back of her subordinate's head. "Fairfield, has anyone ever told you that you talk too much?"

Her subordinate snorted. "My entire family did. Why do you think I got stuck with this job?"

"Maybe opening the ranks to low-borns was a mistake." Natalia grumbled, giving the chair a swift kick in the rear as it's occupant jutted upwards. "You still have a shopkeeper's glib. I thought I trained you better."

"You did, but I'm prolly about to be discharged anyhow." Fairfield answered, removing her helmet and running a hand through her dark-as-night hair. "No real point in keeping up appearances."

"D-don't say that!" MacIntyre interjected, snapping out of her pool of self-loathing for only a moment. "We can still get out of this! I-I'm sure the Commander will hear our side!"

" _Oh, I will now?"_

The trio turned about in their respective positions to see two new women standing in the entrance of the office. One, a red-haired dark flier with a blue and black uniform, silver pauldrons resting on her shoulders. Two white wing-clips distinctly stood out from the waves of crimson. To her side was a woman wearing golden falcon knight gear, her tunic underneath the armor shimmering with a deep purple and pink trousers. Her greyish-brown hair had it's own wing-clip, resting at the rear.

It took a moment for the three to realize exactly who was with their commander, but once it clicked they all scrambled. The three knights quickly formed up in the foreground of the chairs, each going down onto a knee and bowing their heads.

"Your Majesty! A thousand apologies!" Natalia muttered at once, eyes directed at the riding boots of the royal in question. "We didn't know you were in the compound."

"I didn't want you all making a big deal over it." Sumia mused, a bit pleased regardless of the presentation that lay before her. "We didn't expect anyone to be in here, actually. Is something the matter? Why are you all in full combat gear?"

"And why are two of you wearing your helmets indoors?" Cordelia questioned, eyes floating over the trio. Three of her troopers in her office unannounced, this already sounded like she had even more work to do.

"On your feet, all of you." She ordered. The three stood upwards, taking proper stance in view of their leaders. The remaining removed their helmets and slipped them in the crook of their arms, eyes forward.

Pleased, Cordelia sighed as she slipped into the room. Sumia followed suit, standing at the flank of her friend's desk. "Well? Don't leave us hanging in suspense."

The three soldiers presenting themselves spun about to face Cordelia, sitting down in her ornate office chair and resting her nose atop her interlaced fingers. Every day she had a new crisis to deal with, it seemed. She'd spent too many nights asleep in this room instead of her proper home, and that annoyance leaked into the aura that permeated about her.

An aura that the Sergeant keyed in on quickly. Grimacing at the situation, Natalia began her speech. "Commander. I'm here to report that both of these troopers have committed dereliction of duty." She rattled off, internally panicking as she saw Cordelia's mood blacken even more. Not that she showed this, she merely kept rattling on while holding composure. "They were tasked by myself to assist the Gendarmes in apprehending a thief from the market. However when they happened upon the hooligan, they let him go instead of dragging him to the jailhouse."

"You obviously know what happened, Sergeant. Were you present and allowed this?" Cordelia growled, the two knights in question now being lined up in her crosshairs.

On the surface they seemed unphased by their current situation, but time in leadership had taught her how to read people. Fairfield, the knight on the left, had developed a reputation as being a loudmouth. She also tended to rattle her teeth together when afraid. MacIntyre, the girl with the glasses, was your typical bookworm, but also had quite the trickster's streak. Her eyes seemed to flick about the entire room, trying to find something to focus on and use as an anchor.

Natalia shook her head. "No ma'am. They were confronted by the Gendarmes, and I requested I bring them here to be punished instead of dragged in front of the city's magistrate." She explained calmly. In truth, it was to avoid both of them being assaulted by the six officers of the law they had managed to enrage. And to hopefully avoid seeing two of her troopers spend a night in shackles.

Cordelia sighed through her nose, knowing the Falcon Knight as well as the two accused behind her. She knew did it to save them, she just knew she couldn't admit it. Sumia remained silent, worry creasing her brow.

"MacIntyre. Explain yourself." Cordelia commanded.

Fearfully, MacIntyre jumped up in her seat, sucking in the air around her before she unleashed a torrent of words. "Weweregoingtobringhimtothejailhousebutthenhetolduswhathappenedandthenwesawthebreadhehadonhimthenthegendiesshowedupandweregonnastabhimsowestoppedthemandlethimrunbeforeheendedupgettinghu-"

" **Stop, for Naga's sake."** Cordelia moaned, palming her face and groaning loudly. She lifted her other hand, pointing towards the still silent soldier. "Fairfield, explain in a language we can **understand.** "

Grunting, Fairfield stepped forwards as MacIntyre's head bowed down in embarrassment. "He stole a loaf of bread and they wanted to lop his hand off. We made a judgement call and let'im run while we distracted the Gendarmes. He just didn't wanna starve, ma'am." She explained clearly and concisely. "I don't regret it for a moment. Even if I get stripped of my armor, ma'am, I know I made the right choice."

Her partner in crime nodded along with her words. Behind them, their Sergeant's mouth curled up into a smile reflecting some level of pride. The expression disappeared rather quickly as the Captain's gaze leveled on her once more.

"...Sergeant, stay. The two of you, your bunks. Now." Cordelia ordered.

The two saluted their commander, slipped their helmets back on, and marched back out from whence they came. Their metal footsteps slowly dying off and replaced with the piercing silence after the door was shut behind them.

"You raised them well Natalia." Cordelia mused, dropping her angered facade as her lips curled into a smirk. "Only one month in service and they're already thinking for themselves."

"I've only taught them as you both taught me when I was newly inducted." The Sergeant answered with a soft bow at the waist, growing more prideful at her mentor's compliment. "But they still broke the law, noble as it was."

"They did. But last I checked the penalty for theft hasn't been mutilation for decades." Cordelia commented, glancing to her friend at her flank before standing up and moving to open her window.

"It isn't. Emmeryn got rid of that law ages before Chrom took over." Sumia affirmed herself, idly smirking.

Natalia stood there, confused. "Then… why would they…? I don't understand."

"Gaius. Care to explain?" Sumia chimed, calling out to the now open window.

With that, a ginger topped head popped through and scanned the room. A black bandana hung from his head, along with a sack resting on his back. The new arrival whistled loudly as he inspected the room. "Woah. Stumbles let you refurbish this place, Red? It looks sweet."

"If only I spent less time in it." Cordelia sighed as her old friend slipped inside. She paced back over to her desk, opening it and pulling out a small package before setting it on top.

"I'm still at a complete loss here." Natalia stated once more. "Can someone please tell me what is going on?"

"Oh. Well, ya see-" Gaius started, digging about in his sack before pulling out a large loaf of raisin bread. One that aptly matched the description of the stolen goods. "-does this help?"

The Sergeant's jaw dropped then and there, all the while Sumia giggled from her position resting against the shelves. "Told you she'd react like that." The Queen crooned.

"I think we both would've in her shoes." Cordelia noted as Gaius slipped the loaf back into his sack. The Captain then tossed him the envelope, which he caught and bounced in his hand. "Took far more effort then it should have to find that. I think _you_ owe _me_ now."

The thief opened the package up to look inside, eyes glistening as he stared at its contents. He nodded at once, gingerly slipping it next to the bread and going back over towards the window. "You got it, Red! Now I gotta move, Missus'll get antsy if I don't make it home with this."

With that, the sticky-fingered felon hopped back out and disappeared.

Natalia's shock finally subsided, unamused at the whole affair. "You hired a thief to steal bread and nearly give me a heart attack, _why?_ "

"To test how all of you would react." Cordelia answered, grinning rather evilly. "I wanted to see how the new members of the Guard company would act in a morally dubious situation. And how you would respond respectively. You _were_ only recently promoted to falcon knight after all."

Sputtering and fuming, Natalia didn't seem to be able to compute what had just happened.

"It was on my request, Nat." Sumia slipped in, nervously twiddling her thumbs. "I like knowing how the people who guard my family would… you know, _act_ on the job?"

"You all acted as we hoped." Cordelia added.

"But-! I-! There were-!" The grey haired soldier continued, giving up and slumping into one of the chairs. "Just… please, _please_ never do that again." She pleaded.

"No need to perform the same test twice." Cordelia conceded. "What did you think I was going to do?"

Natalia shrugged. "Make me run them through drills for the rest of the week. Yell at them until you were blue in the face. Maybe do that thing with a fire tome you showed me when I first joined the Regiment."

"I like that first one. Do that, add latrine duty too it as well. I'd rather they didn't catch on."

Her former student rolled her eyes. "Wonderful. Of course, Captain. Anything else?"

"I just received a letter. The situation in Valm's apparently gotten worse." Cordelia explained, shaking her head. "We'll be escorting Her Majesty for a diplomatic trip to Chon'sin. Get the girls ready to trip to Port Ferox."

Natalia nodded, standing back to her feet and mounting her own helmet back on. With a salute of her own, and a returned gesture by her commander, the woman slipped out of the office. Soon her footsteps disappeared as well.

"You know you don't have to bring a full platoon." Sumia murmured once the two were finally alone, taking a seat in one of the chairs that hadn't been used during the whole interaction. "I'll be fine, Cynthia said she'll come down from Wyvern Valley to keep me safe."

"Sumia, dear. I say this with respect as your friend _and_ your bodyguard, but that's not going to happen." Cordelia affirmed, finally relaxing into her chair. "I can't just let the Queen of the Halidom go to a continent at war without some kind of escort."

"Maybe, but…" Sumia paused, drumming her hands on her lap. "Cordelia, you need a vacation. A proper one."

"Hm? No I don't, I'm fine." Cordelia dismissed immediately. "Never been better, really. It's nice having something to do."

"...How long has it been since you went home to little Severa and Morgan?" Sumia asked.

"Two days ago." Cordelia answered. Truthfully as well, she'd left the office to spend some time with her two young daughters. Severa was a few years off from reaching double digits, meanwhile Morgan was still trying to understand the finer-points of tying laces and putting her own dresses on. "It's been hard, but Miriel and Lissa make time to help."

"And it'll be even harder when you're on the other side of the world guarding me." Sumia pointed out. "You need more than just 'a day or two off' once in a while. For the past five years I don't think I've ever seen you leave the city unless it was on-mission."

"Never thought I'd hear the day when my Monarch complains that I'm too dedicated to my work." The red haired rider muttered darkly.

"I'm grateful, you know that. But…" Again, Sumia sighed. "You've been through a lot. Too much for most people to handle."

"I've _handled_ myself well enough" Cordelia affirmed, the same certainty as always. "As you said. It's been years. Life goes on."

"Come on, Cordelia. I know I'm a bit all over the place, but don't think I can't tell when my right hand woman's in a rut." The royal noted, frowning at her oldest friend. Sorrow was never something Cordelia knew how to process well, and experience hadn't helped her much in this regard.

Now it was Cordelia's turn to sigh once more, shaking her head at the silliness of the whole situation. "...I miss them. But I don't mourn them for a reason."

"We've searched up and d-"

"He isn't dead. I can feel it." The woman affirmed once more. "Neither is Severa. This isn't denial, Sumia. I'm not wishfully thinking with my head in the clouds. My husband and my daughter are alive out there."

"For someone who scolds me over my 'silly little flower fortunes', I find it funny how I'm trying to be the voice of reason here." Sumia chimed. "...How do you know for sure? Everyone looked. For both of them."

"Lucina's been in Regina Ferox for two months now without a word. You haven't seen Cynthia in an entire year." Cordelia pointed out. "You feel it too. That cord we have with our families, we've had it since we reunited with them. Tell me, are they safe?"

"Yeah… I guess I can understand that." Sumia conceded, deciding it was best to not push the subject even further forward. "I'm worried about Lucina. It's been too long since we've gotten a report, and the succession crisis is only getting worse. Flavia still can't intervene."

"Lon'qu and Olivia are there to keep her safe, remember?"

Sumia rolled her eyes. "We sent her up there so she keep _them_ safe, not the other way around. Besides, with Basilio's recent passing, the throne of the West Khan's devolving into a free-for-all. At this rate we might need to send troops up north as well as across the sea."

Cordelia shook her head. "We already have forces in Roseanne and Plegia. The cost of sending another expedition north would be madness. The people aren't going to tolerate another tax hike."

The Queen tutted. "I know. Themis said their harvest might not reach the quota. Friga almost refused the last levy. Lefandi's slipping, so are Taylis and Pyrathi. The only Duchy that isn't reporting problems is Archenea."

"They're the largest territory outside of Ylisstol. If they were having problems, we the entire Halidom has a problem.." Cordelia muttered darkly.

"And guess who they're blaming for all of this?" Sumia sang bitterly, "I should've known this would happen. Chrom and I never had a head for economy, Emmeryn always knew better than us."

"Last I checked you're the one who basically rebuilt the country's economy from scratch after Grima nearly burned it all down." Cordelia pointed out. "People have food in their stomachs, even if their purse-strings are tight."

"I guess all of those tutors mother sent me through paid off after all. Though I doubt she ever expected her middle-child to end up Queen of the nation." She reminisced fondly. "Do you really think we've done a good job?"

"Have I ever sugar-coated my opinions?" Was Cordelia's reply. Sumia chuckled, drawing a letter out from under her armor and passing it across.

The Captain snatched it up quickly, inspecting the thing for a moment before removing the parchment from the letter she had already read earlier. "At least our information network's working without a hitch."

"Those new outposts we set up on those islands between the continents made transporting letters quicker." Sumia noted "Instead of relying on something as slow as Wyvern, a Pegasus can actually make a flight over the ocean without risking the mount or the flier passing out. Thank the Gods."

As her eyes read the letter, a smile came across Cordelia's face once more. Even with droll reports and boring messages, any letter from her daughter was one she was happy to read. Though this one was a bit darker than the ones that came before. It confirmed what Virion was worried about, his country was in the crosshairs once more. A pang of sorrow hung for Cordelia over her old friend's plight, but she'd already done what she could. Besides, Morgan was a good warrior and a better tactician. Short of her father, she wouldn't run into much issue.

"Roseanne's going to be attacked soon, but Morgan thinks they'll be fine. Apparently there's a scouting force that she was going to assault the day after she wrote this."

"I'm guessing she wanted to make a show of force?"

"Either that or she wanted to see what Virion's new army can do."

Sumia shrugged. "Either way, she probably routed them. Anything else of note?"

"She's guessing it's a smaller force then whatever they're mustering towards Chon'sin. At least this time Dynasts are working together instead of letting each one die on their own."

"Maybe they learned a lesson from how our alliance with Ferox made us stronger with numbers."

"Or maybe they're desperate enough to wait until after the dust has settled to go for 'reunification' themselves."

"Well, you're the Commander here. Do you think she needs help?"

Cordelia paused, pondering the situation. Even if Morgan could handle the first force the enemy threw at Roseanne, they still had other men they could probably fling at the Duchy. The Valentians had numbers, and attrition won wars. Still, she didn't have any authority over the normal Army. She could ask some of the former Shepherds to come along, but the only one she could think would be willing to help was Stahl. If he came, Lissa would try to join them after hearing about it from him. If Lissa came, Chrom would want to come along to protect his younger sibling. Henry would also swoop in to keep an eye on her.

And suddenly, she would have to protect almost all of the leaders of the Halidom in a warzone.

Still, she needed the help. And the knight turned Paladin had turned into a rather capable Commander.

"Stahl enjoys that Colonel position plenty. Think he'd be willing to bring his regiment with us? Assuming we can bring him without Chrom choosing to tag along."

"I'll keep Chrom in the city, I promise." Sumia stated, grinning at her husband's tendency to follow where the fight was. "I'll just tell him I need Lissa's help, and you can get Stahl's division commander to approve of him coming along."

Cordelia nodded, agreeing with the plan. It'd be a little while. Hopefully they'd be able to move within the month, providing bureaucracy didn't get in the way.

Or at the very least, keep her daughter alive.


	12. C-10: Meet the New Boss

Against my protests, Caeldori forced me to spend another night in the castle's hospice. Even though the pain had settled and I found myself able to move again, my daughter seems to have inherited my family's stubbornness.

It's been slow going ever since I've been thrown down here. The first hour I was alone with a priest, shorter boy with hair the same tint as parchment. He seemed kind enough at first, trying to make conversation even though my mood made me not want to entertain him. Knew his way around a stave pretty well, the pain from the assault I'd been handed drifted away before I knew it. After that it was just usual therapy, ointments and rubs on my back to try and get me walking properly again. The good news was that apparently the reason why the vulnerary worked as well as it did was because I was already mostly recovered. The damage was fixed, all that remained was soreness. Still, I'd be stuck with the cane for at least a few more days. 'Need to make sure' he told me.

"Besides, could be worse. I could strap you to a wheelchair instead." He jokes, sitting himself down in an empty hospital bed. It's funny, he was the same age I was when we first came back in time. The fact that I was old enough to consider him a kid really shows how much things've changed.

"Easy, buddy. I'm not hurt enough that I need one of those things." I point out, resting back against the large set of pillows behind me. It felt like I was being sucked into a cushioned dimension, full of fluff and puff.

"Maybe. But your daughter warned me that you might give me a headache down here." The smug little runt grins at me, mischief in his eyes as he rubs his hands together. "Plus it'd mean I get to try out the new elixirs I've been brewing up. It'd be fun! For me, though. Not for you, this stuff is more bitter than boiled wyvern dung. But let's not think about that."

"Okaaaaay, now you're _definitely_ not getting me into a chair." I confirm slowly, edging myself a little bit further away from my supposed 'caretaker'. The kid just laughs at me, throwing his head back and grabbing his stomach. For a Priest he seems to get a kick out of making people squirm a little bit.

"Calm down, Captain. 'Do no harm' still stands." He assures me, going up to his feet and walking himself over to the counter-top. Different ingredients, a boiler top cradling a kettle, and accouterments are scattered around rather haphazardly. But I'm more focused on my healer then the environment. Something about his posture seems rather practiced. Back's straight at all times, hands clasped together whenever they aren't holding something. They don't seem calloused either... I doubt he's seen much fighting in his life. Considering he would've been twelve during the Walhart mess, I guess he missed the war.

I smile to myself. Silver linings pop up sooner or later.

"What's your name, kiddo?" I ask, giving the pillows behind me a few jabs with my elbow.

"Hm? Oh." He turns around, mortar and pestle in hand as he's grinding some herbs into powder. Probably more medicine for me to force down later. "Uh… Percival LeRoux, ma'am. But uh, most of the other Priests here call me Percy."

My giggling catches him off-guard, as if he said something wrong. The resemblance is there for sure. Same messy hair, same large blue eyes, same squeaky voice. Sure, not as bombastic as my Percy. Not nearly as flippy as Arthur's son either, but still there.

"You just remind me of someone." I explain after settling down. "Friend of mine's son was named Percy. Except he rode Wyverns and wore costumes, he wasn't much of a healer."

Percival shudders at the mention of wyverns, dumping the powder he had grinded up into the bottom of a cup. "Those things terrify me. How do you manage to ride something that wants to eat you?"

"Beats me, it's your Duchess on one." I say with a shrug. "I like keeping my feet on the ground anyway."

"Hm. I thought you would like Pegasi like that Ylissean Commander." He quips, grabbing the hissing kettle. "Aren't you two related somehow? Cousins?"

"She's my younger sister." I correct. Didn't think we looked _that_ different, then again Anakos did change my appearance a decent bit.

"Ah." He pauses for a moment, letting the brew stew on it's own after pouring the water out. "...Is she seeing someone?"

The look in my eyes must've been enough for him to realize just how big of a mistake he just made. Opting to take the smart route and change the subject, Percy grabs the cup and shuffles over to me. "You were with the Ylissean League, right?"

Cautiously I nod, taking the cup into my hands and smelling the… not sure if it was medicine or poison. Every one of my senses was telling me that this wasn't something humans should drink. "Yeah… uh… what did you put in this?"

Each ingredient he lists, he counts off with a finger. "Year-old willow bark. Pickled fish. Rubarb. Some ash from the Demon's Ingle." I must be giving him another glare, because he's shrinking away a bit more. "Don't look at me like that, it's a holy site for a reason. People say drinking it gives you a bit of Duma's essence."

"I don't know what a Duma is, but uh… OK?" I concede. If I can survive Felicia's cooking, I can survive this. Probably.

As I force some of the slew down my throat, Percy picks up with his previous line of questioning. "Why did you all come here? Ylisse has a lot of ocean between itself and us."

I'd respond if I wasn't trying to stop my gag-reflex. This stuff, whatever it's made of, is the most rancid bile I've ever drank. Even worse than Morgan's bear-snake-eel cocktails. Expecting this, Percy ended up lifting a bucket from beneath the bed.

"Yeaaaaah you probably shouldn't've drank it all at once." He tells me _now_ between retches. "It's more of a sip and savor kind of flavor. I get that you can't appreciate it yet, but over time-"

As I lift my head up from the bucket, I slowly drag in a few breaths before I manage a reply. "Kid… shut up, before I dunk you in my hurl."

Again that shuts him up, and we're interrupted by the sound of a door being pushed open. I expected visitors sooner or later. Caeldori, Subaki, Morgan. Even Cherche or Virion. But I was surprised to see none other than Roseanne's own War Cleric slip into the room. Her usual headdress was missing, but the rest of her armor and church uniform was present.

And as usual, she didn't seem happy when she looked at me.

"Percival. I'd like a moment with the Captain." Blanche commands, her face twitching for a brief moment as the smell of the 'medicine' and my internal fluids intermingle throughout the entire room. "And take that bucket with you."

"A-at once your Holiness." Percy quickly grabs the bucket from my hands, ducking his head and shuffling out of the room. Wow, two sentences and she lights that much of a fire under his arse? The Valmese Church was always more strict than what we have in Ylisse but… yikes. They're almost militaristic here.

"I think you scared him." I comment, wiping my mouth with a nearby towel.

Blanche keeps advancing forwards, chuckling at the idea before pausing at the head of the mattress. "I came here to thank you, child. While the Duchess and I were questioning our guests, you managed to keep the Marquis safe."

"Marquis…?" I ask, confused. Well, before I put two and two together. "Oh. Gerome. Yeah, well, we're here. And we're getting paid to keep you all safe, so…" I shrug, scratching the side of my nose. "Also they're called Marquesses in Ylisse."

"Dialects aside, you have my gratitude for protecting the young boy from harm." She gives me a low bow, and I can't help but feel unbelievably pleased with myself. When she first saw me all I got was snide remarks, now she's actually giving me some respect!

"Don't misunderstand me, Miss Volkner. I still very much dislike you." She immediately corrects once she spots my happy smirk, snatching it from my face and putting one on herself.

"Uh huh." I answer drolly, scratching under my gloves. "I'm sorry that I'm not a happy little airhead like my sister. _Someone's_ gotta be the realist in the family."

"Hm. True. You and your sister are almost nothing alike. In fact, if you two did not swear by it, I'd argue you were not related at all. She radiates that strange Ylissean optimism I've heard about, but you… you act different. As if you weren't even from Ylisse." She nods agreeingly, stroking her chin as she started to pace around the bed. The tension in the room started to tick up out of nowhere, what little sunlight was still outside seemed to squelch away as night came all at once. The Cleric's mood was different too, darker. She… didn't come here for small talk or thanks.

It was then I notice something key.

She's armed. There was a hand-axe hanging on her hip.

"If I didn't know any better, my dear. I'd say you were a Plegian." Blanche continues, taking in my change in expression. If anything this seems to make her even more amused. "You have the attitude of one. The complexion of one as well, pale and lifeless. Like a puppet of skin."

"Is this going anywhere, ma'am?" I ask impatiently.

"Why do you always have those gloves on?" She asks immediately. "The dining hall, the keep's grounds, the bathing pool, dare I say you even wear them when you're sleeping."

I can't lose my cool, it's not like I'm in any state to defend myself. "You have a disturbing obsession with my hands then, 'your Holiness'. Spent a bit too much time reading some weird books?"

She ignores me, continuing with her monologue. "It's not just the weird habits and the poor attitude. It's your aura. You carry yourself as someone with only basic instruction in light and anima magic, but your dark magic presence is… immense. Even the other Priests and Clerics can tell, and they haven't been trained to sense dark magic like I have." She tuts her tongue, like I was a student she was scolding. "Your supposed sister shares trait as well, but she's one of Ylisse's infamous Dark Fliers. Her dabbing in heresy is not surprising."

I remain silent, just resting my hands in my lap.

"Take the gloves off." She commands, coming to a halt at the foot of the bed and staring me down. Before she was holding both her hands behind her back, now she had one of them resting on the handle of the axe.

I should've seen this coming sooner or later.

Begrudgingly, I comply. I remove both of my battle-gloves and set them on the stand to the side, and let her see my hands free and clear. I actually painted my nails a few days ago, nice shade of white like my old hair used to be. Trimmed them too, would've taken them down to get a manicure.

Except for the birthmark on the back of my right hand. The large black curved V, with eight ovals skewered through but it. There was a small dot in each one, making it look like they were eyes. It was an ugly mark, it felt evil. Then again, of course it was. It was the mark of Grima for Gods' sake.

"There were rumors, but I wanted to see it for myself." Blanche moved forwards, roughly grabbing my wrist and tugging it closer. It was a bit obvious she was doing this to cause me pain, not to get a better look. But I wasn't gonna give her the satisfaction of a reaction. "Your Father was Plegian, that much I knew. But his family being Grimleal? Are the Ylisseans truly mad enough to allow people like that into their nation?"

"You're wandering into an issue you don't want to be a part of, Blanche." I answer calmly, staring back at the bloodthirsty Cleric. Much as I'd rather not look at her at the moment, catching sight of the mark was even more uncomfortable to me. "You really think Virion and Cherche, two people who helped kill Grima, would let a practicing Grimleal get this close to them?"

"They both have a tendency to forgive people who don't deserve it." She released my hand, eyeing me carefully. "Weren't the Shepherds apparently accompanied by a pair of Plegian Dark Mages?"

I roll my eyes at the mention of Henry and Tharja. "Yeah, and they helped save the world too. One of them even married a Cleric of Naga. So I'd wager they did more than you, sitting on your rear safe and sound."

I don't even move when her hand wraps itself around my throat, tightening like a noose right before the floor falls out from under you. I can breath, barely, but it hurts. When I try to pry her off of me, I can't even make her budge. Gods… damn it…

" **Do you realize how many people we lost here!?"** She roars, her usual serenity completely foreign to me now as I struggle in her grip. **"How many villages I saw burn!? How many families I had to bury!? All because of that madman Validar and his damnable God!?"**

I need to stop panicking. It's obvious she's stronger than me, and I can't wriggle my way out of this. But if she was going to kill me, she'd actually be choking me out. Right now she's just keeping me pinned in place.

" **We thought it was over when Walhart fell! We thought we would finally have peace! Instead we had the LIVING DEAD coming to kill us!"** She continues, voice breaking as she recalls the war that had past us all. "Everyone… they killed everyone. And then, the ones they killed came back, and **joined them.** It was **nightmare!** And it's all their fault!"

I bob my head up and down as best I can. Every fiber of my being's telling me to go for the woman's axe and cut her to pieces. Take her arm off, then her head, then just keep going to town… what is going on with me?

"You…" She grits her teeth together, but I can feel her fingers slipping enough for me to breathe clearly again. "There's something **evil** in you. I don't know what it is, but it's strong and it's familiar."

"...Let go of me." I mutter, grabbing the hand and finally yanking it off.

Blanche stood back upright, hands on her hip as her glare smolders down onto my hand. If I was in her shoes, I don't think I could blame her. In my old timeline, if anyone saw the mark Morgan and I had, they'd try to kill us on reflex. It's why we learned to wear stuff that covered it up… or try to remove it entirely. Whenever we tried that, thought, it always just came back when the skin healed. Like nothing even happened.

I never thought about what life in Valm must have been like. Ylisse had the Falchon and Lucina. We had hope because we knew if we could just get close enough, we could kill Grima and end it all. But the people in Valm had next to nothing. Tiki couldn't save everyone, and in this timeline she wasn't even here to protect them at all. They were alone… and it was all my family's fault.

Blanche gives me one last look of contempt, hands curling into fists before she starts to leave. But in that last moment I can see the sorrow behind her anger. Maybe she was a bit different before the risen came here. More like Cherche, a bit softer? Hm… I suppose I was too before it call came crashing down around me.

She deserves an explanation. Half of one.

"My Dad wasn't just Plegian." I call behind her, making her stop in her stride. I keep digging around in my head for what Aunt Aversa told me about his past. "He was nobility. My Grandmother ran with him when he was younger."

The Cleric scoffs in disbelief. "Why would a noble flee their own nation? Especially those who were ranking members of the Cult?"

"To get away from my Grand-dad." I rub my neck a bit, trying to see if the psycho left a mark. "He was bone-fide insane. The things he did to my father and my aunt were… nightmarish."

"The Cultists did these things even to their own kin?" She still doesn't buy it, but at least she's facing me again.

"Why in the hell do you think Morgan and I hate the Grimleal so much?" I spit back, my anger coming to me again. "They torture everyone! It doesn't matter if you're with them or against them, you suffer! "

"And who was your Grandfather to do these things? He must've been quite insane."

"You have _no idea._ " I mutter under my breath, before speaking up again. Better not say who exactly my _illustrious_ ancestor is. "All I know is he's someone I'm never going to be like. And I've got this stupid birthmark to warn me about that." She still doesn't seem very sure about things, so I just roll my eyes. "Ask Virion or your cousin if you don't believe me. But I'm not one of those maniacs, I've spent my entire life dealing with their stupidity. Longer than you."

"Hrm. Right, you and your sister came from another time." Her face curls back up into its usual amused smirk, probably reacting to my jaw dropping into my lap. "You really think they wouldn't inform _me_ of all people? It isn't like anyone else knows, dear. Besides, your parents in this world are far too young to have children your age."

I scoop my face back together, putting on the best scowl I can given the circumstances. "...If you know we're from a different world, then you know what we went through. And you _know_ I'm not Grimleal."

"Perhaps, Severa. Perhaps." She finally concedes, using my name for the first time. "Let's say I believe you. That you aren't one of Grima's servants, hm? Why are you even here? You could have easily just left. Instead you joined a war you have no stake in."

"Virion's a close friend to my mother. My sister is here protecting this place. Soldiers from _my_ Kingdom are here." I move out of the bed, rubbing my throat carefully as I feel the imprint of her fingers. She didn't want to kill me, but Gods did she leave one helluva mark. "And even though you won't believe me, because it's the right thing to do. I'm not gonna run from suffering."

"Strike me down. Is that sincerity coming from the most sarcastic woman I've ever met?" She asked, genuinely surprised too by the way her eyes widened. "DIdn't think you had it in you."

"Bite me." I lower my hand from my neck, looking towards the door. "You can leave now, I'd rather go to sleep without you trying to kill me again."

"Dear, if I wanted you dead your corpse would already be in a pyre." Blanche finished, giving me a backhanded wave as she made her way out of the room.

As the door slammed behind her, I groaned out loud and looked around me.

Where did I put those gloves…

* * *

"What do you mean _she knows?"_

The next day I left the keep and found Morgan, grabbing her from a council meeting and dragging her out to the city market. This wasn't exactly new, I dragged really anyone I could out to shopping sprees when I was stressed out. Spending money and buying every nice thing I saw just made me forget about my problems. Even if it meant I was walking back home with a ton of stuff I'd never use and an empty purse.

Today, that wasn't the case. The plan was to go shopping, but once we got to the market I decided that my heart just wasn't in it. Morgan, knowing me better than I know myself, took me by the arm and lead me to a corner cafe. About three coffees later and a mountain of pastries, I was wired enough to rattle off what happened the night before.

"She saw my mark, Morg. Made me rip off my gloves and show her." I answer in a low voice, scarfing down another croissant. There weren't a lot of other patrons around, but that didn't mean we wanted the waitress to hear our little talk.

"Oh. Great. Perfect! **Utterly fantastic!** " Morgan throws her hands up, groaning at the sky as she rocks in her chair. "That's exactly what I need right now! The head of Roseanne's military not trusting either of us!"

"Would you pipe down?!" I hiss, leaning over the table and dragging her arms back down. "The last thing we need is to make a scene in public!"

"The last thing we needed was you showing her the _**brand of the Defile.**_ " She shot back, teeth grinding against each other like a blade against stone. She's… mad. Oh Gods she looks as angry as I usually do. Her eyes look like they want to set me on fire, and is she trying to rip a piece of the table out with her hands…? At least she's quieted down a decent bit. "You couldn't have just spun a lie or something? You really had to show her!?"

I grab another croissant and take a bite out of it, rolling my eyes in contempt. "She had an _axe_ and I was in a _hospital bed._ What did you want me to do, bleed on her?"

"Sev, if word gets out about Dad being… you know..."

"Blanche doesn't know about that. She doesn't even have a clue." I point out after swallowing. "All she knows is that Daddy and Grandma ran from Plegia because of our insane family."

"Hrng… fine." She admits, leaning across the table and grabbing some sort of cupcake. "At least my mark's somewhere you can't see easy. You got really bad luck having it show up on your hand."

"Mmhm. And how did Brady react when he saw _your_ mark the first time you two got touchy-feely?" I can feel myself grinning from ear to ear as reach for my mug of coffee, knowing she'll flip out.

"Sh-sh-shut up! Shut ALL the way up!" Her face is looking about as red as Leo's tomatoes, and instead of lifting her hands above her head she's waving them wildly in front of herself. "We aren't that that point yet! Furthest we've gotten is second base!"

Now it was my turn to gag. Well, spew. I end up doing a spit take of my coffee onto the floor. "I did NOT need that image in my head!" I protest after sucking in some air, trying to mentally scrub my brain. Oh, gross gross gross gross _gross._

"You're the one who brought up me sleeping with him!" She retorts.

"As a joke! No one wants to hear about their little sister getting-"

"Don't. Say it. Please." She groans again, this time resting her forehead on the table. Our mugs and the dishes clatter from the impact. "...We're off topic. Do you think we should be worried or not?"

I shrug nonchalantly, taking a sip of what's left of my coffee. "Eh, nah. She's not sure about us now, but I doubt she thinks we're a threat."

"And do you think she'll tell anyone else?" I can hear the edge in her voice as she lifts her head back up, like her entire world is crumbling apart.

I shake my head. "No. Not unless we prove we _are_ a threat. Which isn't going to happen for obvious reasons."

The tactician sighs in relief. "Good. OK, I can salvage this. Assuming you don't screw it up more."

 _...What did she just say?_ I think in disbelief, before saying it out loud.

"What did you just say?"

"You heard me, Sev. Your attitude causes problems." She answers bluntly. "I was hoping having a kid would make you chill out a bit, but I think it wound you up more."

Without thinking, I slam one of my hands against the table. This time half our silverware almost goes flying. "Oh come on! It's not like the past five years of my life were all sunshine and roses! I got sent to a place I didn't understand, looking for someone who I had _no_ idea what they looked like, nearly dying in another massive war-"

"You still haven't explained any of this to me." Morgan cut in, trying to pull her plate back to her side.

"Right." I grumble. "OK, you know how we went back in time?" Morgan rolls her eyes and nods. "It turns out Naga isn't the only person who can bend time and space."

That got her to stop being sarcastic. For the first time since we started this talk I had her undivided attention. "...Say again? Did you just say there's someone who's as powerful as Naga? As in, Queen Naga? The patron Goddess of our Kingdom who literally sent us back from a fiery hellscape?"

"Not as powerful as the holy mother, no." I correct once again. "But he took us to… an outrealm, I guess. He said he needed help saving his Kingdom, and it turned out his Kingdom was in a different world. Before we got there he even changed our appearances. Our haircolor, our brands, even our outfits. Heck, he gave Owain the shadowgift."

My sister goes wide-eyed, growing more intrigued as the story goes on. "You're kidding! A man had the power to take you, Inigo and Owain to an outrealm without a gate!? He gave you special powers to boot!?"

"One, it turned out he was a Dragon. Two, yeah he did all of that. I wouldn't believe it if you were telling me either. And three, you won't believe where we ended up." I nervously tap my fingers on my lap, trying to think of a way to explain where we ended up.

"What? What is it?" Morgan asks, physically and metaphorically on the edge of her seat.

I can't believe I'm doing this. "You remember those stories Mom and Dad read to us as kids? Y'know, about Nohr and Hoshido? Those two Kingdoms that were constantly fighting each other all the time?"

Again she nods. "Yeah. It's the most popular story on the continent. I'm pretty sure every kid around's been read the stories at least once in their lifetime."

"...We ended up in Nohr. Like, _Nohr_ Nohr. From the book and everything."

For the first time in my entire life, my hyperactive and hyperbolic little sister is completely at a loss for words. Her jaw doesn't drop, her eyes don't widen further. Actually, the opposite happens. She folds her arms over her chest, her eyes narrow at me, and her whimsical smile turns into an unimpressed frown.

"Bullshit." She states, and I just throw my head back and laugh. Of all the things that I thought would lose her, the fact that we were transported into a storybook world was what throws her for a loop. This is honestly perfect, I don't think I can stop laughing. And she seems to get the wrong message from my laughing too. "So where did you really end up? Jugdral? Elibe? That weird Tellus place?"

I manage to stop laughing sooner or later, shaking my head again. "Language... Since when did you have a sailor's mouth?"

"I'm a twenty-three year old army officer, when do you think I got one?" She answered with a deadpan. Hell, with _my_ deadpan.

Clicking my tongue, I pick the conversation back up. "OK, good point." I admit. "Not kidding though. We really did go to Nohr. I was even in the army there _._ Heck, I was a royal retainer again. Which in Nohr meant I also had to be an adjutant."

"Explains why you suddenly knew anything about logistics when you came back." Morgan commented, stroking her chin in though. "So Subaki's Nohrian?"

"No, he's Hoshidan." I point out, then respond before Morgan can cut in. "Yes, Hoshido's real too."

Morgan didn't look like she was buying anything I was saying, but she also knew I had no reason to lie to her about where I'd been so long. "So… wait, the stories said that there were three Dragons there. Dawn, Dusk and Silent… was the guy who brought you back one of them?"

"He was a Silent dragon. _The_ Silent dragon." I confirm.

"So… you met a god. A legitimate god."

"Yep."

"And he took you and two of our childhood friends into a world we only know about from stories and myths."

"Correct."

"And you married one of the people from this storybook world. _Plus_ you had a kid with him."

"Uh huh…"

"And you brought both of them back here after fighting in another massive war."

"About sums it up."

Another few moments of silence, before Morgan just facepalmed. "Severa, I love you, but sometimes you make me think you're crazy."

"Considering who's talking, I'd say that it runs in the family." I reply, smirking again.

"What've I ever done that's crazy?" Morgan asks.

"Smacking your head against a tome and a tent pole to try and get your memories back?" I recall. "Almost ripping off Yarne's ears because you thought he was fuzzy? _Force-feeding Brady bear gizzards?"_

Again my little sister throws her hands up, and again I can see the Waitress stare at us from inside the building. And yet again, I can't help but smile at the insanity of it all.

"Alright, alright! I get the point!"


	13. P-1: Ambivalence Renewed

No matter what world she found herself in, Caeldori always found peace in the air.

The sky was her last consistency, a great blue expanse surrounding and enveloping her in a blanket of comfort and familiarity. Clouds lazily hovering above her like nature's own parasols shielding her from the harsh sun. Wind curling and pressing against her at every turn, dip and dive. The simultaneous heat and cold of the high altitude, sending chills down her spine while also warming her core.

High up at the edge of the world, things were always so simple for the girl. There weren't any pressing matters to attend to, no practice drills to perfect or plans to draft. Work wasn't her companion, those were only numbered by her horse and her thoughts. The only place where her mind could be as clear as the expanse before her. One last consistency she held from her past.

If there was one thing that didn't seem to change from coming to this new world, it was that flying was the same. And flying was just about the last semblance of home she had left. Lessons from Princess Hinoka come back to her memory as she decided to be a bit of a dare-devil, whipping downwards at a reckless speed before performing a quick corkscrew, then looping up and around before leveling herself and her mount once more.

" **WOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"** She cheered, knowing that no one would ever hear it other than herself. In all this uncertainty, she at least remained the knight of the skies. The last Sky Knight in a world full of Pegasus Knights, carrying on her father's legacy and making one of her own.

Nothing would ever change that, and she'd keep that title for as long as she could ride.

But the sun was moving past its zenith, and she had an appointment to keep. Last thing she needed was to upset her aunt of all people.

* * *

In the fields surrounding the city, Morgan sat on a solitary log in the middle of a long abandoned field as her Pegasus paced around it. Whoever owned this plot of land had either fled from or died in the last war, and there wasn't anyone around who felt like claiming it. Whatever crops grew here once upon a time had long since died and shriveled away, the rows remained untilled and unplowed. Instead of lines of growing produce, there was just weeds as far as the eye could see. Grass retaking what humanity had once claimed. Off in the distance, what was left of the farmhouse hung in a depressed slump. The roof was missing half its shingles, paint peeled from the outer walls, what window panes remained were broken in random forms.

Still, Morgan found solace that this place didn't seem to be brought to ruin directly from the hand of the conflict. Neglect killed this farmstead, not violence. If the original owners were still alive, the could come back. If new farmers made a home out of this place, it wouldn't be haunted by ghosts of the past. Moving on was still possible, for this farm, this country, and maybe for her as well.

She wasn't given the same mercy as the land around her, war had injured her directly. Severa warned that if her memories returned, she might not like what was once in her past. The world she and her companions flee'd from wasn't one you could reminisce fondly of, it hurt everyone who could remember it. And with her memories back, she couldn't help but compare the changes that they had all undergone.

Brady and Laurent remained similar, if not more morose. Yarne was obsessed with the survival of his species. Inigo went from a shy introvert to a shameless womanizer, if only to keep smiling through all the pain. Owain put on theatrics, pretending to be the hero he so desperately wished he was. Nah grew up before she was ready. Noire became even more meek. Kjelle just dove into her training, she became obsessed with strength. Gerome just gave up on the world, Lucina gave up on her own _humanity_.

Severa… gods, her sister went from someone so sweet to someone so angry at the world.

A sharp, dry, annoyed laugh cut the air around her as it left her breast. Through it all she remained bubbly and aloof. Always cracking jokes and trying to be their positive one as the world burned around them. Someone had to do it, and being happy came easy to her even before she lost her memory. The benefit of being too young to remember her mother and her father before the died, it lessened the blow compared to everyone else. Plus she was the youngest in the group, everyone seemed to be relieved that she kept up some semblance of being a kid.

Still, with her memories renewed… her own personality was changing. She could see it herself, she smiled less. She hadn't pulled a prank in months, too much work and too much on the line. All her time was thrown into developing new strategies, keeping the people around her alive, being something for those same people to look up to. But colder then before, harsher. Not long ago she would never snap at anyone for anything, and yet over the past month she'd lost count at how many times she intimidated people out of her audience.

She was turning into her father. Her first one, from her own time. Cynical, calculating and focused. For Gods knows how long she wanted to be that person, he was her idol then and he still was now. But now that she was finally slipping into that mold, she realized just how much she wanted to remain her own person.

Flapping wings broke her out of her self reflection, her head snapped up to see the person she was waiting for out here to finally arrive. The white pegasus landing perfectly in front of her, wings folding at its sides before it's rider hopped down and gave the girl a careful pat on the side of it's long snout.

Caeldori's armor still confused Morgan. The spaulders of a Chon'sin Swordmaster, paired with the tunic of a myrmidon, encased in Valentian Pegasus knight armor. The outfit she arrived in was different, apparently she had gone to tailor to get a new set of clothing made for her. Apparently this set better reflected the outfit she wore in her old kingdom. If that was true, then their men must be very poorly armored. But far more mobile, Hoshido must focus more on speed and offense over holding the line.

"Sorry I'm late, Aunt Morgan! My head got a bit caught in the clouds." Caeldori apologized, bowing sharply to her elder and holding the pose until she was addressed. Her grandmother's red hair flowed around her, hanging towards the ground as she awaited permission for her to stand upright once more.

"Yeesh, you're formal. I'm your family, Caeldori, not a princess." Morgan responded with a cheeky smirk, politely returning the bow and rising in tandem with her tardy student. If only everyone else she spoke with was as polite as her. Another trait only matched by Cordelia's own cordial nature.

"In Hoshido we're taught to give reverence to our sensei. Er…" Her cadance was broken as native tongue slipped out, spurring an embarrassed blush. "Teachers! Teachers, right."

"Caeldori. _Relax._ " Morgan comforted, her grin only growing larger as her junior kept sputtering about in front of her. "This isn't a test, it's a lesson. For someone who's usually so confident, you'd think you'd know not to wind yourself up for this."

The Sky Knight nodded, taking in a breath and centering herself. "I'm just hoping I get this right. I don't want to disappoint my parents _or_ you." She finally admitted.

Another dry laugh left the elder soldier. "Psssh, please. Have you _seen_ our family? I don't think we could disappoint if we tried." She stated, trying to reassure the doubtful knight and dissuade any doubts in her abilities.

Unfortunately her words had the exact opposite effect, pressing Caeldori's worries even further forward internally. She was constantly worried about not living up to her own standards, and being surrounded by people who were far out of her league never did much to calm those fears. She had to get this right, or else she'd just end up embarrassing everyone involved.

This time though, Caeldori had to be snapped out of her thoughts, a book being thrown at her and smacking into her chest. Caught off guard and off footing, she fell to the ground with an unceremonious flop as she tried to juggle the object in her hands. She landed on her rear, avoiding further embarrassment, her eyes shooting down as her face once again shared the same penchant as her hair.

Morgan's free hand shot up to cover her mouth, trying to suppress the laughter that came at such a silly sight. "Sorry, sorry!" She said, trying to convey some sort of apology over her schadenfreude. Her poor niece was a wreck as is, she didn't need to get kicked while she was down… in more ways than one.

Shaking her head, Caeldori finally looked at the book that rested in her hands. It was covered in hard brown leather, a golden lightning bolt emblazoned on the front. The thing was… heavy, denser than any of the novels she read in her spare time. Flipping it open she would see lines upon lines of green tinted script rushing down it's pages. The writing was packed together, filling almost every part of the parchment.

"Is this homework?" Caeldori questioned, confusion overtaking her previous embarrassment as she flipped through each page. The writing seemed to never end, going on and on in a nonsensical rampage of words. Meanwhile Morgan laughed openly, taking Caeldori's last statement as something of a joke before realizing she was all too serious.

"They didn't have tomes in Hoshido?" She asked curiously, coming forward and taking a cross-legged seat at the front of her company. She withdrew another book from her hip, placing it in her own lap.

Caeldori shook her head, sighing as she gave up on making sense of what was inside the thing and shut it closed. "No, our magic was more based on scrolls than anything else. They summoned animal spirits, not… actual lightning."

This was news, Morgan had never heard of magic like that before. "Animal spirits encased in scrolls… so, what, you channel energy into the scroll itself and it spurs the spirit out? Or do you have to say some kind of rite to get them moving?"

Caeldori laughed nervously, scratching the back of her head in embarrassment. "I uh… I don't know, actually! I never used any of them, just healing staffs. Sorry."

"Figures." Morgan grumbled, shrugging before pointing to the book that Caeldori still held tightly. "So you've never seen a spell tome before?"

"Well… some of the Nohrians had them. A friend of mine, Ophelia? She was a dark mage like her father, and she had a bunch of tomes." Caeldori explained, opening up her thunder tome once more and running a finger under one of the sentences. "I just… never knew that _this_ was what was inside them."

Morgan smiled, she always enjoyed the reactions of people who didn't know much about anima magic finally having to see the work she had to memorize to even get a spark of lightning out of her fingertips. "Wonderful. Well… you were half-right. You're going to need to try and memorize what's in this tome if you ever want to be able to use it to its full extent. But you're a reader, so that shouldn't be a problem right?"

That revelation caused all color to drain from Caeldori's face. A book this large would take her a solid week to read through, and triple that to memorize it. She just bought a new set of books from the town market too, this world had a plethora of romance novels she could just lose herself in.

The girl groaned as she realized how much of her free time she was going to sacrifice just to learn a new skill. But she felt a hand settle on her own, and her gaze focused upon her aunt's reassuring smile. "Hey, I'm not gonna leave you out to dry here. I'm gonna teach you _everything_ you need, and I'll help you whenever you get stuck. Alright?"

The ghost of a smile crept up on Caeldori's face, and she nodded in agreement. This wasn't going to be easy, but she'd already done plenty on her own to try and become the perfect sky knight. Now she had help, and that was enough to make her feel ready for whatever came next.

"Good." Morgan confirmed, taking her own tome in hand. She rose to her feet, wiping a grass-stain off of her purple-colored skirt before signalling for Caeldori to do the same. "Now, try and memorize the first few pages while we walk to a little practice range I've set up. Your pegasus and mine can entertain each other for a bit."

The two redheads walked together across the barren field, dirt and long dead plants crunching beneath both of their boots. They made their way to the side of an old barn house, bottles and old refuse sitting on the dilapidated window sills. They were freshly placed by Morgan, targets for Caeldori to practice the bare basics on.

"Right, so. Before we begin, a crash-course." Morgan noted before drawing out her tome once more, a long lightning lance imprinted on the cover. She flipped the book open, casually fluttering through the pages as she set herself up in front of a wheelbarrow off to the side. "Magic's made up of what mages and sages call the Trinity. Light, Anima and Dark. Each has its own characteristics and uses, as well as its benefits and drawbacks."

She waited to make sure that Caeldori was following along to continue. Thankfully the girl came well prepared, a notebook and quill already working wildly to keep up with her instructor's instructions. "Light magic's the first category. Depending on who you talk to they might call it holy magic or healing magic. Staves are imbued with this stuff, and people can be trained pretty easily to use them to heal wounds." She clicked her tongue. "Buuuuut, its not just useful for healing wounds. You can weaponize it with the right tome, rare as they are. And they are really, **really** strong too. _Especially_ against dark magic. Anima magic can dispell light magic pretty easily though."

"Why are the tomes so rare?" Caeldori asked, not looking up as she kept jotting down notes from the lesson. "Wouldn't something so powerful be made readily available? It seems like a waste of a potent resource."

Morgan wagged a finger. "Good question, my young pupil." She answered jokingly, much to Caeldori's chagrin. "It's called holy magic for a reason, in order to use the stuff you need to be an exceptionally strong cleric or sage. One of Naga's own chosen, honestly."

"And Naga is…?" Caeldori asked, giving her aunt a quick look.

"Naga is the Goddess of this world. Bluntly put she's the most powerful dragon to ever exist, she's the patron goddess of Ylisse actually." Morgan continued to lay out. "The power isn't the surprising thing, she's… honestly the most benevolent being you could imagine. Kind beyond comprehension, and she's willing to help people no matter what. I've only met one woman as compassionate as her."

"You talk like you've met this Goddess in person, Aunt Morgan." Caeldori pondered in disbelief, her quill finally going still.

"...There's a lot of things you need to learn, Caeldori." Morgan answered ambiguously, pressing onto the next topic as her observer looked on in confusion. "Next: Anima magic." She rattled off as the trainee resumed her scribbling. "This is the most natural magic in the world, it takes the form of different elements at varying strengths. For example..." She flourished the tome still open in her grasp. "This, is a heavy lightning tome. The one I gave you-" She pointed to the book now hanging off of Caeldori's hip. "-is a thunder tome. Both are imbued with thunder magic, but mine is a heck of a lot stronger than yours."

"Will I get to try yours out?" Caeldori asked excitedly, taking a moment to beam up at the magical book in question.

"No, because I'd rather you not blow yourself up. Explaining that to Severa would give me a migraine." She pointed out, causing Caeldori to blanche once more and return to her notetaking. Morgan coughed into a fist, continuing on. "Last we have dark magic, or elder magic. You are never going to use this, period. Under any circumstances."

"Because it's evil, right?" Caeldori chirped.

"It's a spell, dear. Magic's a tool, it's only as evil as the person who uses it." Morgan states bluntly. "No, because it's corrosive. Using dark magic extensively can really, _really_ screw with your mind. People who don't know how to control it can go bonafide nuts. Hell, the people who do know how to control it _are_ bonafide nuts."

"But… the dark mages I knew weren't crazy." Caeldori exclaimed, pausing as she thought back on the Nohrian mages from Corrin's army. "Well, they were a little bit, but not in a dangerous way. Just… zany? And nice, too! A couple girls I knew, Ophelia and Rhajat, they were nice! Sure Ophelia was pretty flamboyant and Rhajat was… Rhajat..."

"Different world, remember? Different magic too, probably." Morgan rationalized, this news surprising her more than the animal spirits from Hoshido. Dark mages being _nice_? That didn't really seem possible, especially after what it felt like the first time she ever used a nosferatu tome. The memory of that was still terrifying, it was like the whole world lost color for Gods knows how long after she activated the spell. Henry and Tharja were both really, really bleak characters too, and after experiencing once what they went through every day… no, it must be different in their world…

Caeldori sighed once more, writing a final note into her book. "OK, no dark magic tomes. No light magic tomes because I probably can't use them. So you're only gonna show me how to use anima tomes?"

"Getting your head around anima tomes'll probably take you a lifetime. Heck, outta my friends, I'm not even the most powerful mage!" Morgan stated, before looking back towards the wheelbarrow. "But I'll still give you a demonstration." She waved Caeldori off, signaling for her to step back a few feet.

Once she complied, Morgan fixed her eyes onto her target. She dug both of her riding boots into the dirt, running her hand across the open pages of the tome. Slowly, the energy from the words flowed from the paper, seeping into her hand and filling her form. With a deep breath, she mentally prepared herself, keeping her eyes locked on the forlorn piece of farming equipment, before jumping into action. The dark flier did a quick twirl, pivoting around clockwise on her right foot sharply before extending her arm forward with an open palm.

" **THORON!"** Morgan bellowed out, a long spear of jagged golden yellow firing itself out of her hand and blasting air out around her. The pages on the tome flipped freely, her crimson hair fluttering as the bolt of lightning screamed forward at the wheelbarrow. On impact, the unfortunate relic exploded into a thousand flaming pieces, flying everywhere with reckless abandon. Nothing remained where it was, just a smoldering heap of scorched wood.

Caeldori watched the scene unfold before her completely enraptured, shock and awe washing over her as the raw power manifested itself. The smell of the burning wood found its way to her nose, bringing her back to reality after a minute of slack-jawed gawking. "D-do you have to say the name?"

Morgan snorted, the green tint fading away from a section of the book as it's magic was used up. "Heck no, it just sounds a thousand times cooler when you do." She explained simply.

Caeldori could only nod in compliance, shuffling to her aunt's side and opening up her own tome. The green still emanated from the entirety of it's script. "So… how do I do that?"

"You don't, I gave you a weaker tome. When you use that, it should generate a small sphere of magic you can shoot out of your palm. Think of it as a… magic rock projectile." Morgan sniggered at the disappointment that was clearly apparent on Caeldori's face. "Baby steps, Caeldori, baby steps."

"Fine, fine." Caeldori acquiesced, placing a hand on one of the pages. "So, how do I do that?"

Morgan pondered the explanation for a moment, before properly putting it into words. "Focus on the energy you feel on the pages, remember the words and picture them in your mind. Then just channel the magic from the book, through one arm, out the other. Think of your body like a… water pipe, the magic's the water and you're the pipe. Sound good?"

Caeldori hummed, doing as she was instructed. The knight focused as best she could on the words she memorized, letting them manifest in her thoughts as she looked towards one of the bottles resting on the barn's window sill. For the first time she felt the energy pulsing out from the tome, moving in a rhythm on the page. Almost as if the magic was alive and had a mind of its own. But… it wasn't going into her. It just kept brushing against her hand, then flowing back down. Like it was refusing to enter her form, or something was blocking it from slipping into her.

"Um…" She looked at Morgan, the elder of the two's brow creased in thought.

"...It's like your mother said, your aura's out of whack." Morgan noted. "I can sense the energy, it's trying to go in, but something is blocking it. That 'thing' is your aura." Caeldori sighed in defeat, shutting the tome as Morgan kept explaining the phenomenon. "Aura's basically the magic that's in you. It acts like a conductor during spells, but it also acts as a shield from magic. It's why a spell doesn't just light people on fire or cut them to pieces if they're hit by it every time, if their aura's strong enough then they build a resistance."

"So… my aura's stopping me from using the tome?" Caeldori questioned.

Morgan nodded. "Most pegasus knights are drilled spiritually to have a higher resistance in their aura. It keeps them alive in the sky when a mage tries to shoot them down."

Caeldori muttered in acknowledgement. "We… did something like that in Hoshido. But it was called chi, not aura. Sky knights focus it so we can center ourselves better when flying… come to think of it, diviners tend to have stronger chis themselves."

Morgan bobbed her head to the left and right, lifting both her hands in a 'either-or' motion. "Probably the same logic, then. Your aura, or chi or whatever, it's been trained to act as a resistor. But… you're different, your aura's not blocking it actively. It's… really really wild."

"And why would that be?" Caeldori asked, suddenly worried.

"Usually, it's emotional state." Morgan pointed out. "But that can't be it, you seem pretty balanced. Nervous, sure, but nothing that'd cause _this_ much disruption." Caeldori shook her head, sheathing the tome on her hip once more as disappointment and shame wrapped itself around her. Morgan's frown grew, and she put a hand on her niece's shoulder. "It's not the end of the world, alright? Not like I expected you to start shooting death from your fingertips in one day." She comforted. "Let's just get back to the castle, your parents're probably waiting for us."

So the two pegasus riders made their way back to their mounts, across the ruined fields. Both the white and black animals were amongst each other where they had left them, grazing on the fresh grass that the two had sat upon just an hour prior.

Both moved to ready their horses, Morgan having taken Caeldori's thunder tome back. She slipped the thing back into the satchel on her saddle, making sure her personal leven sword and steel spear were safely fixed in place. Behind her she could hear the younger girl coddle her horse, softly petting it while speaking into her ear.

"You've really taken to her." Morgan observed, smiling genuinely. Caeldori turned around, keeping her hands resting on the main of the pegasus as she shared the expression. "It's always nice to see a rider bond with a mount."

"She's just like my old horse back home, Temari. Bit of a prima donna, and she's got the same monster appetite. But down in her heart she's so kind, arencha girl?" Caeldori gave the horse a quick scratch under its nose, the ride whinnying happily.

"Well." Morgan rested herself against Caeda, the black pegasus snorting as her master used her as a backrest. If a pegasus' eyes could roll, her's probably did then. "You give her a name yet? Caeda hated it when I used to call her 'horsie' as a kid."

"Hinoka." Caeldori answered. "She was one of my teachers in Hoshido. Eldest princess of the royal family. One of the best warriors I ever knew, and she was… a good sensei." The girl fondly reminisce. "Not just with combat, but she was kind to me. She helped me out whenever I had a problem I was too embarrassed to talk with my parents about. My books, or art, or… boys." That last admittance made her blush a bit.

Morgan chuckled once more. "Ohhh yeah, _never_ talk to your parents about boys. I still haven't even spoken to your grandmother about _my_ love-life. Though I'll probably have to burn that bridge when I get home." Caeldori giggled at her aunt's commentary, the sound jingling like music in Morgan's ears. "...You really do miss your world, don't you?"

Caeldori nodded somberly, her happy smile remaining but… saddening noticeably. "I still dream about home. I remember the cherry blossom trees, they had these pink flowers? Like nothing you've ever seen before, every spring they just filled the countryside with beauty. And… my friends. From Hoshido _and_ Nohr. Sure, they were crazy, but they were always there. And we went through so much together… plus… there was…"

"There was a boy." Morgan deducted.

Caeldori nodded in confirmation, laughing softly at the recollection. "His name was Asugi, he was the son of a ninja in the army. He was more of a thief than a soldier, though… and a bit of a slob too. And he always tried to skip out on his duties! But… I don't know, one day I caught him making a mess in the kitchen. I yelled at him about his clothes and not meeting regulations. After that I started helping him bake things, little treets and candies? We started spending a lot of time with each other, then one thing led to another…"

"I understand, trust me." Morgan confided. "My boyfriend didn't trust me when I first showed up. He thought I might of had uh… undesirable intentions. So he avoided me for a while. But I kept dogging him, on and on… eventually I helped him out of a bind. After that we started talking, then one day he just admitted he liked me. It's probably the happiest memory I have here."

Caeldori hummed, understanding her aunt's words all too well. She took in a breath, going to mount Hinoka's back. Morgan did the same with Caeda, giving the girl a soft pat. "Mother told me you and her came from a different time. Did you ever want to go back?"

Morgan froze as the question hit her eardrums, shocking her to her core. Suddenly everything lined up for her all at once, Caeldori's shakey mood, her inability to use magic, her shakey aura. How didn't she see it sooner? It was obvious from the way the girl carried herself.

Silence rang between them, Caeldori looked at her aunt with worry. Did she say something she shouldn't't have? Did she touch a sore nerve by accident? She had a record of being too blunt for her own good, but it had been a long time since she'd made someone clam up completely.

"You're not just homesick, are you?" Morgan questioned, craning her head over to look at her niece. "You regret coming here."

Now it was Caeldori's turn to sit in shocked silence, averting her eyes immediately. Her first instinct was to fly off as fast as she could, but Morgan was a good enough rider to catch her eventually. She could just not answer, or lie. It'd be easier… and she wouldn't have to worry about her parents finding out.

...No, no it wouldn't. She kept this inside her for the past few months now, and it was starting to tear her apart. The ambivalence of her decision was a rolling storm that never seemed to quiet itself no matter how much time passed.

She needed to let it out to someone. Anyone, and hope they'd understand.

"Mother told me this world was safe. That things would be peaceful, and _safe_. But from the moment we've gotten here it's just been constant conflict and fighting. We spent our first month running away from an army, now we've spent this one getting ready for a war." She released, just like how she had to her mother at that meeting in Nellis. "I gave up everything for her. My job, my friends, the man I loved, for what? For another world on fire, just after I saved the last one? I nearly got killed how many times, I had to fight a God for crying out loud. Now I'm here doing it all over again. What am I, some sort of cosmic maid fixing everything when it breaks!?"

Silence retook the world around them. Not even the wind or their pegasi dared to break it. The air chilled, and for a brief moment the earth itself stood still for the two riders in that forlorn field.

"You love your mother. But you hate her at the same time." Morgan said for her.

"...I'm a horrible daughter, aren't I?" Caeldori asked in a small voice, a tear falling down her cheek. Hinoka shifted nervously underneath her, the pegasus' head craning up and staring somberly at her master's disparaged expression.

"Don't even think that." Morgan said quickly, having her pegasus trot over. She leaned across, giving the girl the best hug she could. "Not for a moment. I don't think that, neither Subaki _or_ Severa do either. You're not a horrible daughter."

"B-but… what kind of daughter has feelings like this!?" Caeldori asked, choking a sob into Morgan's shoulder as she returned the embrace tightly. "My mother hasn't _done_ anything wrong. She didn't force me to come here! She said she'd understand if I stayed! She didn't even try to guilt me or anything! She just said that she had to come back! A-and father decided to g-go with her… I couldn't just abandon them..."

"You got put into an impossible situation… and you're not the first person to feel like this." Morgan affirmed, lifting her sleeve to try and dry the girl's face. Caeldori lifted her head to allow it, confused at Morgan's odd statement. "You have a _lot_ more in common with your mother then you think, she has a… complicated relationship with your grandmother."

Caeldori nodded, deciding not to press that subject. Something told her it wasn't a topic that was readily discussed anyway. "...I don't know if I regret this or not. I just wish I never had to choose to begin with."

Morgan nodded once more, keeping her arms wrapped tightly around the smaller girl. The two stayed there for a long time, just holding each other. The dry wind danced around them, ruffling their hair and chilling their skin. But they didn't seem to care, they just rested in place, comforted in the other's arms.

Caeldori finally found someone from this world she could bond with, after being afraid for so long she couldn't find anyone in this scary new world.

Morgan knew she wasn't alone in her own thoughts, and she could finally stop being a commander and just be herself.

It was a sad moment, but it was also inside them both, the twin fliers found something they both needed desperately through it all.

Solace.


	14. C-11: Death do us Part

That night I wander back into the realm of my dreams. So many of my thoughts these days focus on my time in Valla. The people I met, the things I did, the stuff I saw.

My memories gravitate to the first year after Valla was formed. When the dust finally settled and peace was brokered between all three of the countries. I was walking with Corrin in the courtyard, nervous at where I was. It was my first time doing the job Anakos brought me over to do, be one of her retainers.

"You're edge Selena. Think someone's watching us?" She asked me as we made our way out of the castle. One of her routine walks through the gleaming new capitol's streets as her new subjects got settled in. Inigo, Owain, Kaze and I took turns escorting her, and that afternoon I was the lucky pick.

"It's a big city full of refugees from a massive, almost apocalyptic war. I _know_ someone's watching us." I answered. It was a half-truth, back then I was more worried about being around Corrin then I was about uninvited company.

See, when we first found out Corrin was really Anakos' child, we took it in different ways. Owain viewed it as a stroke of fate, going on and on about how we were destined to come together this way. Inigo was taken off guard, but at that point he already had his own jobs as a parent at the forefront of his mind.

As for me, well, I thought the three of us looked like **complete idiots.** We came to _protect_ Corrin, and at some point two of us had tried to chop her in half.

Not exactly our finest hours.

It didn't help that it was around that time Subaki and Caeldori had made their way back to Hoshido. My Husband still had his old duties protecting Hoshidan royalty, and my _daughter_ wanted to try joining the Sky Knights officially. It was the first time we'd been separated since we became an item and… let's just say I wasn't handling it very well. I'd splugred two months salary on buckets of ice cream just to cope.

"Just stay close to me, your highness." I mutter, sticking to her front and keeping my hand rested right on top of my sword.

"You know that walking around like this is just going to scare people, right?" Corrin quipped, moving forwards to stand at my side. She always insisted that she made these surveys completely unarmed. Kept saying she couldn't rule a kingdom if she didn't try and be open with the subjects. The girl was still annoyingly good-willed for my tastes.

"Milady, you're the third royal I've had to guard in my life. How about you let me take the lead here?" I plead. If she ended up getting hurt on my watch, I'd never live it down. It was bad enough we weren't there when she needed us the most.

"How about you use my name instead of titles? It makes me sound stiff." Corrin answered back, pointed ears twitching at the sting of my tone. "Last I checked we were supposed to be friends."

"We're also in public, Corrin." I grumbled in protest, relaxing my grip around the handle of my rapier. She was far too carefree for someone who'd just went through a war. Hell, a war where she had to end up committing patricide. I never understood how someone could always be so calm all the time.

"You need to _relax_." She continued, smiling at me brilliantly. Corrin always had this disarming charisma about her, and it was honestly because she always came off as so genuine. It's hard to get angry at someone who never seems to lie or cheat people. I don't even think she knew how. "You can't always be this wound up, it's bad for your health."

"Because it's my job, duh. You're supposed to be the one all calm and serene, I'm the scary person with the sword." I rattle off. I can see her eyes rolling as I speak, clearly not buying a single word I said. Doesn't make what I said any less true, though. "If you don't like how I'm handling things, we can always have Kaze take my place."

"I don't want you gone, Selena." The Queen responded, gazing in front of us once more as we just kept walking down the street. Above us we saw a few heads poking out of some tenement windows. Hoshidan and Nohrian refugees trying to get a glimpse of their new nation's leader. I'd expected them to want to stay as far away from each other as possible, but they just seemed to grab whatever housing they could find.

"Yeah. Well…" My shoulders sag, and I finally take my hand off of the hilt of my weapon. Not like I could hit any of them from down here anyway. "Just don't give me guff for trying to keep you in one piece, eh? I'm the best retainer you have now."

"Wouldn't dream of it." Corrin dismissed, waving up to a few members of the onlookers above. A few dared to return the gesture, doing their best to seem presentable to the most powerful woman in the city. All the while I just kept my glare level. "But can you at least tell me what's bothering you?"

"It's…" I sighed, trying to straighten myself up. "It's nothing. I'll get over it."

Corrin's mouth opens again, but words don't come out this time. Instead three, strong smacks ring through my ears.

My dream world shatters and I bolt upright in my bed, the sheets slipping off of me. Subaki starts to stir at my side, mumbling something incoherent in his own language. Someone calls through the door, it sounds male and young… Percy…?

" **Miss Severa, Mister Subaki!"** I hear him cry, making my ears themself wince from the pain. I drag myself from the bed and grab a light tunic, pulling it over my head and letting it hang past my hips. What does this twerp want this late? I don't need company right now.

I rip the door open to glare the boy down, only to see a rather grizzly sight. Both sleeves of his Priest tunic are rolled up to the elbows, with red splashed across his forearms. Behind him I can see a clear trail of sporadic sanguine, leading off towards the stairs of the tower itself. And the smell, Gods the smell of iron's already taking over my senses.

Before I can even ask, Percy grabs me by the hand and starts dragging me off towards the stairs.

* * *

My vision is getting blurry before I even see the doorway to the treatment room.

The stench of iron, medicines and chemicals are wafting out from under the door, filling the outer hallway like an invisible cloud. I can barely breath right, and it's like a hundred sewing needles're taking turns at my eyes. Doesn't help that this twerp keeps tugging me along like he's a kid in a candy store. He hasn't even explained why he's brought me here.

Percy doesn't bother to change that, either. Once we're at the doorway, he just lets go of me and motions for me to sit down in the room adjacent. The door was already propped open, and could hear a chair rocking within. "I need to clean up inside, please wait here for a few minutes." He asks. Well, states. His voice seems too dead and tired to even form a question.

"If I wasn't still half-asleep, I'd whoop you for even touching me. Forget about dragging me down back here." I hiss. Percy quickly brings his hands up to block any strikes, seems like he's gotten a pretty good impression of me. "Why am I even here? Do I look like a doctor?"

"C-commander Volkner asked me to bring you!" He stammers, peaking his eyes over his arms like a prairie dog scanning out of a hill. Mentioning my sister puts me on a bit of a back foot, but now he actually starts backing away to the infirmary door. "Just, wait here! I need to get back to work!"

He scurries off like a mouse, the door flaps behind him and gives me another blast of the stench to my face. Morgan probably wanted me to go through another set of check-ups. It's like she's turned into a shorter version of Mother, how much she freaks out about about my well being now. Everyone always has to treat me like I don't know what's best for myself. It's not like I'm a kid who likes running around with knives.

Y'know what? I'm gonna give her a piece of my mind after I'm done here. I'm really sick of getting treated like a moron.

I go into the room, and it's as bare bones as you'd expect. A few chairs around a table with couple books. Some storage for extra tools that the hospice might need. Another exit that leads somewhere else, but it looks locked so I don't pay much attention to it. No windows, makes sense saying we're underground. Stuffy too, my guess is this place is storage first and resting place second. Nothing remarkable at all.

What really catches my eye, is the brat.

He's got a familiar look about him. Sharp, angled features with brown eyes. Shirt and pants he's wearing look like something a wyvern rider would put on. Some mark's under his right sleeve, maybe a bruise or whatever. Dark blue hair that's a uncouth mess around his head. He looks like he's spent the past hour falling through the sky, there's still a few leaf scraps resting in the mix. He can't be any older than five… he should be in a nursery school, not here alone.

Again that maternal instinct of mine kicks in. I creep over in front of him as he just sits there, rocking back and forth in the chair. When he sees me, his head piques up so fast it's ridiculous. Then again, I'm a random woman wearing a long shirt over her smallclothes coming out of nowhere. Plus I think he's old enough to know that I'm prettier than most.

The smile on his face is… hell, infectious. When I crouch down on my toes, I gotta stop myself from doing the same. It's like the only thing on his mind is a beam of sunshine and puppies. Let's see how fast I can change that.

"So what're you doing here, pipsqueak?" I ask, and he immediately starts pouting. "You don't look sick. Trying to snag some candies from the Priests?"

"Nuh uh! They already gave me some!" He protests, digging his hands into his pockets and popping out a wrapped caramel. Looks fresh, too. Makes my stomach grumble. The sound just makes him flash that dopey grin again, and he holds it over to me. "Here ya go lady. I've got plenty!"

"Huh… thanks." Not gonna say no to free candy, I unwrap the thing and pop it into my mouth. Sweet, like I expected. Think there's a bit of chocolate in the center too. "So, you got your candy. Why're you here?"

"Uh… well…" His eyes look back and forth across the room, and I can feel him shrink a little into his chair. "Mommy and Daddy are inside. Some bad people hurt them while we were coming here, and the doctors said they're gonna make them better!"

Kid's taking his parents getting laid out better than I would've at his age. Not sure if he's this aloof or if he's putting on a brave face. Or, maybe they aren't that injured. Probably some refugees who got smacked around a few days ago by those kidnappers. "Well if they said they will, then I'm sure they will." I answer, and the smile turns back up to full force. No need to worry him about his parents now anyway.

"So what's your name pipsqueak?" I probe, wanting to pass the time until Percy comes to grab me.

"It's not _pipsqueak!_ " He crossing his arms over his chest and puffing it out. "It's Jacques! Jacques the Wyvern rider!"

"Yeah. You ride wyverns. And I'm the Empress of Chon'sin." I roll my eyes, sitting down onto the floor in front of me and resting back onto my palms. "I'm gonna call you Jack instead. You mind?"

He shakes his head again. "That's my nickname! It's what Mommy calls me when we're riding together."

That explains a lot, he's mimicking his parents. "Oh, so your _mom_ rides wyverns then."

A third shake of the head, his attention's more focused on the candy he's fuddling with than me. "Nope. Daddy does! But Mommy lets me ride her pegasus with her!" He explains, my heart sinking a bit as a dark feeling starts churning in my gut. "They both said once I'm big enough, I get to find my own wyvern to ride!"

"That's… neat." I manage out, trying to ignore the chill running up my spine. It's just a coincidence, it has to be. Stop always thinking about the worst case scenario, this is why no one likes you. "...Jack, why was your family coming here?"

"Visit my grand-folks." Jack replied nonchalantly, finally throwing a new caramel in my mouth. As he lifts his arm up I can catch a glimpse of what's on his arm. It's a birthmark, that's for sure. Big… kind of distinct to.

Right as my brain finally adds it all together, I can hear a knock at the door. Percy pokes his head inside. That damn smell's back again from the other room, it's stronger now too. Foreboding, like a pair of fresh corpses.

"The Commander's waiting for you Miss Severa." The blonde boy gets out, and I nod. One last look to Jack, I give him a smile and pick a few leafs out of his hair. He returns the favor, passing me another caramel before he goes back to nibbling on his.

Please, let me be wrong.

* * *

…

This isn't right. None of this is right.

This can't be how it all turns out for them. Not after everything. This isn't how the story's supposed to end.

Both of them look so out of place here, laid out like this. Sheets pulled over tight like a shroud. Skin's pale. Mouths half open, I can't even tell if they're breathing. Eyes closed and still. They don't look like people, they look like a pair of lifelike dolls that someone spent too much time making. Getting all the details right, but they just didn't know how to make them seem _real_.

I keep expecting them both to just wake up. Say something to me after all these years. Ask me about where I've been. Talk about what I've missed. Tease'em both until they're red in the face like always. Just like old times, finally get some semblance of normalcy back in my crazy life.

But they don't. They can't.

Morgan's sitting in a chair at the front of both beds. She's hunched over, mouth leaning into her interlaced fingers. Her tactician's cloak is hanging loosely around her shoulders, no armor to be found. I can't even see her face, but I know what she's feeling well enough. Not angry, or sad. Not morose or upset. Not even regretful.

Just… numb.

"Another Valentian scouting group, probably." Morgan proposes as I drag another chair to sit next to her. She keeps her posture, and I just lean back as I take in Gerome and Cynthia's lifeless vessels. "After I attacked them with Cherche, they probably brought archers as insurance."

She nods her head slightly over towards the fallen Princess, their hair violently contrasting each other's even now. "Five arrows to the back. The way she was arced over, the Priests think she was shielding someone small. She wasn't even wearing armor."

"She still would've looked like a threat in the dark." I comment, and I can see Morgan's head slowly bob up and down.

"Gerome was the same way. No armor, arrows shot up. Went right into his guts." She keeps explaining. I want to know, and I don't want anything to do with it at the same damn time. "They both stayed conscious enough to get their mounts facing the direction of Roseanne. Rest was instinct from Minerva and Belfire's part."

I grunt in acknowledgement. My eyes shut, look at either of them is just a nightmare. "And how're they?"

"Minerva's wings got clipped. Hurt, but she'll live." I can hear a sigh come from her before the next bit of news. "Belfire's dead. Moment she landed in the courtyard, the guards say she fell over and went still. Both her legs were basically shot out from under her."

The idea of the old pegasus finally going down, somehow, ends up being the straw that breaks it all for me. Morgan's chair creaks, maybe she's trying to take a look at me as I can feel a few tears come down.

In the old world, Belfire was Queen Sumia's old steed. One day she found her way back to Ylisse without her rider, and instead she found a new one instead. The grey horse was like the pet for everyone in the Shepards then. We'd take turns feeding her sugar cubes, once in a while I'd borrow her to practice my riding. Out of all the Pegesi I've flown in the years… she was always the one that gave me the biggest chance. Next to no bucking, smooth rides. Like she understood what I was going through. An unlikely friend in a world where friends were way too uncommon.

"Blanche said she doesn't know when they'll wake up." Morgan continues, stirring me conscious once more. "Best they did was make them comfortable and fix what they could. But they've both lost way too much blood."

"Just stop." I spit out, gritting my teeth. "Stop it. Stop listing this off like some sort of drone."

"I thought you'd want to know." Morgan answers, monotone as ever. As I open my eyes I see her expression is what I expected. Still, neutral, focused. Eyes going back and forth between some of our two oldest friends in the world. No emotion at all, like she's reading one of her treatises on tactics.

I don't think I need to say why this bit ticks me off. My expression must give it away, because once her eyes rotate back to me she immediately looks back over to Cynthia.

"Did I tell you about the first memory I had restored?" Morgan asked out of nowhere, her eyes centering around the exalted rider. "It was when we were about Jacques' age. You met him in the other room, right?"

I don't dignify her with an answer, she obviously knows I did. "Cynthia and I were running around the castle when we found this massive bundle of worms squiggling around in the dirt. It was early in the morning so they weren't hard to spot. But we came up with an idea. Took the worms and went to the dining hall, and we saw Aunt Lissa making some pies."

"Let me guess, you thought the worms would help the uh… flavor?" I grumble, blinking my sadness back along with my anger.

Morgan nods. "Rhubarb pie was her favorite because she knew Chrom would never eat it. Usually split it between her and Owain. So when she left to wash up, we just… wormed a few into the filling." She snorts a bit, smirking at the memory. "Heh, worm. Good one." She laughs again, before continuing the story. "We watched her hand it off to Chrom insteadd. I think she was trying to prove that she wasn't a bad cook. He tried to avoid it, but she wore him down and he eventually grabbed a piece. Then he took one bite of the thing and…"

Her laughter sounds about as dead as her expression. Heck, it almost sounds like a cough. Dry and unwanted. "He ran off to find some water. Then Lissa took a piece, next thing we knew she was looking for a basin herself. Meanwhile we were just rolling on the floor, laughing."

"You two were a menace back then." I reminisce. When they were younger, everyone was a target for whatever whims came over them. Pranks, theatrics, experiments, sparring practice. The amount of times Lucina and I had to pull them out of messes was almost headache inducing. Every time there was a new story and a new excuse, as if neither could just stay still for five minutes. "Everything you did, you did it together. And most of the stuff you ended up doing got all four of us in trouble."

"Yeah… yeah." She muttered agreeingly, her nose flaring as she exhaled. "I miss those days."

"Me too." I say.

"...What are we gonna do sis?" She asks in a small, shaky voice. Her hands are shivering now. I drag my chair over, pushing down my own pain and wrapping my arms around her. Morgan just merges into my grasp, her head resting against my chest. "This wasn't supposed to happen. I was supposed to keep everyone safe."

"Don't you dare blame yourself for this." I affirm, running one of my hands through her bedraggled hair. "You don't have the right. They thought it was safe, and it wasn't. We can't change what happened."

"I… I know, but now what." The girl sniffs, brushing her nose with her arm. "Whoever hurt them is gone. We aren't ready for an attack yet. We don't have the men, or the equipment, or the supplies. We're all alone out here."

"We've made due with worse, haven't we?" This isn't the first time I've had to comfort her in a dark place, and I have a feeling it won't be the last while we're here. Our backs really are up against a wall, and we don't have any help coming anytime soon. "You're a genius, and I'm the best fighter in the world. Two of us together can't be beaten. So chin up, alright?"

I can feel her nodding her head up and down, the fabric of this tunic scrounging up from the friction. "...I miss Brady. I see them, and I see you and Subaki. I wish he was here to keep me company."

My first thought is to say that I'm sorry that I'm not good enough, but I figure complaining right now won't help the situation very much. Being this far away from someone, especially in her first relationship… it's probably been tearing her apart for a while now. "...Where is he right now?"

"Regina Ferox. Chrom and Sumia sent him on a mission with Lucy." She explains. "He's not a Priest anymore, y'know. He actually started playing violin recitals in Ylisstol."

"Really. That mook, playing a violin?" The picture of him dressed up, sitting on a stage playing an instrument is comical to me. A big, scar covered Priest turned performance artist. "He must scare half his audience out of the theatre."

"He's good enough with it that they stick around." She informs, her head lifting a bit as a ghostly smile comes back. "I remember his first time with the city orchestra. He sounded beautiful, like he could show the world who he really was. Not just the slang and the scars. But _him_ , y'know? The softy who just wants to make everyone happy. Even if he's not the best at showing it."

"You always did have a knack for seeing the best in people. Well when you weren't driving everyone up a wall." I quip, biting my tongue for going too far. But she doesn't seem to real back from the comment, just sighing in my arms. Resigned to her own depression.

"Is this how you feel whenever Subaki isn't around? Just, lost?" She asks, sitting back up in her own chair and glancing over to our comatose companions.

"That and nervous. A clock's in my head counting how long it'll be until I see him again." I explain, adjusting my tunic again to fix the folds. "He's my husband for a reason. We work well together."

"You two love each other a lot." Morgan observed, standing up out of her chair and pacing over to Cynthia's side. "They do too. Even when they can't move, they find a way to stick near each other."

"I'm sure Brady misses you too." I say, caught off guard by the feelings she has for the man. Even back in our time she was attracted to the slack-jawed thug, but I always wrote it off as a crush that she'd get over sooner or later. But now she's completely taken with him, and… I dunno, I can't help but feel happy about that. She deserves someone to come back to.

"I'm gonna fix this. When they wake up, we'll be ready for them." She stated with a firm nod to no one in particular. "I'll keep this place safe, no matter what."

" _We'll_ keep this place safe, eh?" I toss in as I get up and stand next to her. "Don't turn into Lucina and start thinking you can save the world on your own."

"What, so you can get into a sword fight in a flower field with me too?" She jokes, the bad memory flaring up in the back of my head. Both of us were acting like idiots that day, it was a miracle no one got sliced in half.

"Har dee har har. Yeah, sure." I roll my eyes and nudge her with my elbow. "Now, I'm gonna go to force myself asleep and visit these two when I'm all right in the head. You coming with?"

Morgan tuts once, before moving for the door. "I gotta talk with Jacques and find him a room. Plus I need to tell Virion and Cherche about this."

"Wait, they don't know?" I ask incredulously.

"They aren't here, both of them went south to look over the defenses. But they'll be back tomorrow, and then we both need to break the news." She opens the door, looks down the hallway and pauses, then spins around to face me with a cheeky smile. "You really think I would've told you before I told _them?_ Gerome's their son, ya know."

"Gimmie a break." I protest, her laugh echoing as she just disappears out of sight into the hallway. Instead of following her, I give both of the young Shepards one last look. They're so peaceful, no pain or worrying. Just lying there and letting the world work around them. If it wasn't for the circumstances, I'd almost be jealous. Lying down with your spouse without a care in the world.

"If either of you die on me, I'm never going to forgive you." I bark at the two, knowing that they won't stir. Still, I feel like it needs to be said. If they end up keeling over, I swear to Naga I'll find a way to march into whatever afterlife there is and drag them back out kicking and screaming. "...You've got a runt now. It's hard to picture you two as parents. But I dunno if I'm much better in that department either."

It's a silly idea when you think about it. Five years ago I never expected any of us to have kids at all. Now I've got a daughter, so does Owain. Hell, Inigo has _two_ kids _._ And now our old riders have a son waiting for them when they stop being lazy and wake the hell up. "We'll take care of him in the meantime. Just don't expect me to carry the slack for you two very long. This isn't like how things used to be, I can't fix everyone's problems."

Still no response. I may as well be talking to some sacks of potatoes, but it doesn't matter. This is the first time I've seen my friends in years and I'm gonna make _something_ of it, Gods damn it. "I missed you both. You would've loved Nohr and Hoshido, nothing but open skies and free flying for days. Gerome could've learned to ride pegasi there, like a real knight. Heck, Subaki could've taught you this time."

I shake my head. It's late, I'm tired, and tomorrow's going to be especially chaotic with this news coming to the forefront. "I'll see you both tomorrow." I finish, then move over towards the door. Still I can't shake the weird feeling. I thought the only thing that'd be going through my mind would be making whoever hurt them pay, but all I can think of is making sure no one else gets harmed. For once that weird blood lust of mine isn't rearing its ugly head.

When I walk out I'm greeted by another redhead. Not Morgan though, Subaki. His hair isn't done up, and he's still in his nightclothes. But he found his way down here sooner or later, maybe Percy went back to grab him. I don't really care, all I know is before I know it my arms are around him and I've got him forced into a rather harsh kiss.

We hold that position for a few minutes, Mister Perfect pinned against the wall while I stake my claim on his lips. Only reason why I stop is because my lungs run out of air, so I just pull back and smirk at him. Meanwhile he's just staring at me in confusion. "Well… what brought that on? Not that I'm complaining."

"I need an excuse?" I joke, bapping his chest with my forehead softly. "...Don't leave me, alright? No matter what, just stay close to me."

"Believe I made that promise when I gave you your wedding band. Unless you're worried about me keeping my word." Subaki answers, running his hand through my hair just like I had to Morgan. It's so warm and gentle… just like the inn during those first nights back. My own little happy place returns.

"Never had any doubt, ponytail."


	15. C-12: Same as the Old Boss

Subaki and I stand outside in the castle's courtyard. Today was our first official day as 'military advisers' for Roseanne's Army.

Well, 'Army'. It's more of a glorified militia, decently armed but not exactly disciplined. Every member I saw was either lazy, drunk, belligerent, unmotivated or some combination of it all. The Duchy's still rebuilding, I know I shouldn't expect much. Especially after spending a good few years surrounded by a professional army like Nohr's.

Actually, the more I think about it the more I try to pull what I remember from my time there. Nohr and Hoshido were extremely different from Ylisse _or_ Roseanne. Apparently Chrom decided to revamp Ylisse's own militia while I was gone, actually creating different regiments and divisions of soldiers outside of the usual knights. Everyone was welcome to become anything, as long as they proved themselves.

Hoshido's armed forces were completely different, made up of the better off of the Kingdom. Lesser nobles or the affluent joined willingly, looking for honor or glory. The average spear-fighter was just a conscript, they had basically no training and were arrow fodder. But they had an extremely strong backbone of elites. The nobles became samurai, sky knights or ninjas, and they easily made up for what the peasantry lacked in combat skill.

Nohr's entire society was built around war. The Kingdom itself was so poor, the land was a nightmare for farming or mining. The only way to get a decent living and good meal for most people was to enlist in the army. And the army transformed everyone who walked into it. Nohrian soldiers weren't people, they became gears in a greater machine. Units marching with in perfect synchronization, orders being followed without a second thought, an almost complete lack of fear.

One Kingdom was built by people who had everything to prove, the other was built by people with nothing to lose.

Roseanne was a mix of both. Which means these guys have the potential to be amazing or my greatest **nightmare.**

"Perhaps I should take the reigns." Subaki offers quietly, naginata at his side as the sunrise curls over his right. Ever since the Blanche incident he's spent the past few days hovering over me like an overprotective parent. I knew this was how he'd react if I told him, but it really doesn't make the situation any less annoying.

"Morgan asked _me,_ pegasus brain." I answer in a hushed tone, not trying to interrupt an introduction being given in front of us. The tactician was strutting her stuff in front of the newbies, giving some big speech about how noble these people all were for not being complete cowards and actually protecting their homes. Well, she isn't phrasing it like that but… eh, it's the truth.

"She requested all three of us." He corrects, I can see his finger wagging. Caeldori was busy talking with Blanche to the side, trying to pick out which of the new recruits would be decent on a pegasus' back.

I just scoff. "With me in-charge, obviously. I'm the best fighter out of us all."

He looks down at me like he's trying to win an argument with a child. "Firstly, that's to be debated. _Highly_ debated. Beyond that, have you even instructed recruits before? Lady Camilla didn't seem the type to really involve herself with the troopers beneath her."

Well, he's got me there. Training people isn't something that's already on my absurdly large resume. "Oh come on, how hard can it be?"

"Wrong answer. Follow my lead." He finishes, ignoring my indignant expression as his eyes remain ever forwards.

Before us is a gaggle of about twenty new enlistees. Virion officially put the call out for any and all able bodied people in the Duchy to join the militia for when the fighting finally started. More people showed up then we expected, which was nothing but music to Morgan and Blanche's ears. This was first platoon we were inspecting today, and there were Gods knows how many more after them we needed to sort out.

Judging from this first group we had our work cut out for us. They all looked ragged, hungry, bored, scared, or some mix of everything. Of course the people joined up were the ones looking for a quick gold piece, for good and bad reasons. Still it was the first time I'd ever seen rich and poor standing side by side since I even came back to this continent. They weren't soldiers, though. We'd have to change that quickly before the real ones came to kill us all.

After the rude awakening I had this morning, the plan for the day is still tumbling around in my head. Virion decided that we were waiting long enough, and now he was dragging all of our combined forces to the southern border to militarize it. Barricades, walls, guard towers, trenches, _minefields._ Every single inch of land was going to be under watch by someone. Having his kid turned into a flying pincushion completely sent him over the edge. Gods knows I'd be the same if it ever happened to me.

Most of the forces Roseanne had were already moving down with Virion and Cherche. All that was left in the capitol were Morgan's Ylissean troops, the fresh Militia recruits, and a skeleton crew of Ducal Guard to keep watch over the city. In an hour we were going to start our own march to meet with everyone else, and I could already feel my back breaking in half. If there's one thing that'd make me become a pegasus knight, it's that I would never have to walk anywhere ever again.

"With that settled, I leave you all in the capable hands of Captain Takeda and Captain Volkner. These two will be organizing and instructing you all as we march towards Valais." Morgan was wrapping up her speech and trying to introduce us to the rabble. No time to bicker with my hot-airhead husband, time to put on my best 'I will murder you' face and get these greenhorns moving.

As the half-pint slipped away and out of sight, we came forward and looked over the platoon of men and women in front of us. Farmers, shopkeepers, merchants, chambermaids and vagabonds. I doubt a single one of them's even held a weapon once in their life. And now I've got a month to turn'em into something worth a damn.

"Greetings to you all." Subaki begins, jarring me from my thoughts as reality gives me one of it's usual smacks. Firm up your posture, shoulders square and feet parallel. Hands behind your back, head forward. Move your eyes, not your neck. "As the Commander stated beforehand, once we reach Valais you will each be sent off into your militia companies. Until then, and in the meantime, we've been instructed to be your guides."

"That doesn't mean babysitters." I chirp, focusing my glare on a younger farmhand picking his nose at the front of the line. Completely disgusting, he doesn't even seem to care that I'm sneering at him from here. "We get you from point A to point B. We show you the basics of campaigning on the way, and we start the real training there. Understood?"

A few nods and grumbles echo out from the group, but nothing of substance. I'm talking to a group of scarecrows, and they aren't even keeping any crops safe. My teeth are already grinding against one another in frustration, this is going to be a long day.

* * *

" **Keep walking, you sadsacks! You think you'll survive a war if you can't even survive a march!?"**

Few hours later and we were off. A thousand people total, half being Ylisseans in the front and the other half being Valmese in the rear. Five companies worth of fresh cannon fodder, moving down the main road while I harassed them from my horse. It's like herding cattle, slow and dumb. No sense of direction or formation.

When Caeldori was younger, I remember having to fight with her as a toddler to make her wear anything. Didn't matter what I tried to put on her, she'd wriggle out of it somehow and throw it to the other side of the room. When we finally got her to stick with an outfit, it looked like a rumpled mess. These new guys… remind me of that. Their uniforms are crumpled and misshapen, either too big or too small. Helmets are all askew, straps aren't done right. Some of them are even holding their spears upside down.

The longer I look at it, the more I'm growing physically ill. Nohr spoiled me, I was used to working with actual troops who had gone through actual training. Now I was dealing with a bunch of townsfolk playing dress up, and I had to somehow get them through this alive. Way, way, way over my head here.

I give my horse a spur and move to the front, riding up to Subaki's side as soon as I could. He craned his head over to watch me slow to match his pace, rolling up the map he'd been reading from. "I take it the rear is moving along quickly?"

"It's moving along quick enough." I inform, taking my hands from the reigns and stretching my arms out. "Give it a few minutes, someone'll trip and knock the whole formation sideways."

"Very little faith you have in these volunteers." He's smirking again, the kind of smirk he makes when he's about to tease me relentlessly. "If I recall correctly in your stories, you had to start from nothing as well."

"Yeah, I had years to train. They have weeks." I counter, letting my arms settle back down as I roll my neck.

"Then it's a good thing they have me here to instruct them." He adds smugly, laughing as I roll my eyes. "Then it's a good thing they have _us_ to instruct them. But mostly me."

"Your humility is awe inducing." My words are weighed with so much sarcasm, I'm pretty sure they hit the ground as I grab the reins of my horse again.

"I'm a paragon of perfection, remember?" He continues, glancing back over to me. I can see his brow raise in confusion. "So then, why ride up here? Is something else the matter."

"I need an excuse to talk with you now?" I ask.

"That's why you usually come to me regardless, yes." He answers. A pit forms in my stomach when I realize how right he is, but I hear Subaki continue pressing. Probably wearing my heart on my sleeve again. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding."

Sighing, I swallow my self-loathing so I can say what I came here to say. "I'm worried about Caeldori."

That only seemed to make him confused. "Odd thing to be worried about. She's seemed rather happy these past few weeks."

"No, no." I shake my head. "I mean… you remember when we arrived at that town before crossing into Roseanne?" His head nods up and down in acknowledgement. "Things haven't gotten much better since then."

"You two are talking again, I would call that an improvement." Subaki points out.

Again I shake my head. "Something still doesn't feel right. She still skirts around me whenever I speak with her. Sure, I get the usual 'yes Mother' and 'no Mother', but it's like we're just going through the paces of talking."

I can sense his voice drop quite a few octaves as he speaks again. "She's an eighteen year old girl, with a twenty-five year old mother. She might simply not know _how_ to discuss things with you."

"Right…" My mind wanders back to the day we decided to slip her away into the deeprealms. We weren't the first parents in Corrin's Army, that honor belonged to her retainers Jakob and Flora. Soon, Corrin herself had her own children, then a few of the other royals. _Including_ my own liege, Camilla. When our time come, the Deeprealms were already decided on being where we'd shelter the children until the war was over.

Though, honestly I regret the choice.

We did it for all the right reasons. An Army, especially an Army filled with people who were _technically_ deserters, wasn't a real place to raise a family. We were always on the move, getting caught in fights every other day.

I still remember holding her in my arms when we were having the talk. Subaki said it was the best option for everyone. A year away from our daughter was a small price to pay if it meant keeping her alive.

I still remember staring into her eyes. It hurt so much. I was abandoning her, just like how my mother abandoned me. Except now I finally knew how she felt every time she left me behind. Your heart broke into a million pieces, the only way you could even live with yourself was justifying it. It was for her own good, I knew that. But now I have to live with the consequences.

We didn't know time was so distorted in the deeprealms. It wasn't until a month after we left her there that we had a chance to visit, and she was already _two years old._ We missed her first steps, her first words, her first everything. The first time we saw her, she didn't even know who we were.

I don't have the right to call myself her mother. If anything I should've gone with her.

"You're making that face again." Subaki comments, once again snapping me back to reality. I give my horse a quick tug to the right as the road makes a bend, keeping myself in line with the rest of the convoy. "Thinking about the past?"

"I've been doing it a lot lately." I admit, keeping my eyes poised forward. Blanche is riding her way back here, going from carriage to carriage. If I'm lucky, she'll avoid me and I don't have another headache to deal with.

"Returning to your homeland must have brought back many memories." He says, I don't think he's noticed that Blanche is coming. I didn't tell him about what happened in the hospice, knowing him he'd probably throw Blanche out of a window. One of the things I discovered about my husband, he gets rather… protective.

"Most of the memories I've been having were about Nohr and Valla, not my childhood." I correct, huffing through my nose. "I just… I need to do this right. I need to be a good mother."

"...I shouldn't have to ask this but, why?" My head slowly turns as I stare at the man incredulously. _Why_ should I be a good mother? Really? Out of everything he could ask?

He lifts a finger in front of me, his own gaze still directed forwards. "Let me explain; do you want to be a good mother for our daughter's sake, or because you want to be better than your _own_ mother at something?"

That one stumps me. Much as I hate to admit it, that's another one of my fears. When we first came back to the past, I was completely obsessed with surpassing my mother in everything. I needed to be her superior, just to prove I wasn't some worthless weakling. I needed to be more than just Cordelia's daughter, I needed to be Severa Volkner.

But that was before I met her again, and I tried to make my peace with her. That was before I left for Nohr, and had my own child. Now I'm in her shoes… no matter what I do, I'm never better or worse than her. I'm her daughter… I'm her equal.

Maybe it's time I let myself accept that.

"Both." I answer, with what I think is the truth. "Caeldori deserves the best parents. And I want to be better to her than my mother was to me. But I want to be better for _her sake._ Not my ego."

The smirk on his face widens, and I think he believes me. I just hope that I'm saying the truth. "Good, that's the answer I expected."

I can feel annoyance rising in my chest as he says that, my grip tightens as I lean over and scream at him. **"Then why did you ask me in the first place, birdbrain!?"**

"Because you needed to hear it yourself." He affirms, right as another horse trots to our front. I see my worries confirmed as Blanche clearly halts in our path, forcing both of us to stop ourselves.

"You. Follow me." She points towards me, ignoring Subaki entirely, before waving for me to follow as she darts off away from the convoy. Some dirt goes flying into my mouth as I try to spit out a response.

"Well, that's sudden." Subaki grumbles, eyes narrowing on the war cleric's back as she rides. "Wonder what's got her in a huff."

"Nothing good, if she's forcing herself to talk to me." I say, sharing his wariness. Still, if she's asking _me_ of all people for help, that means there's something very wrong. "You can handle this for a little while without me, right?"

"Do you even have to ask that?" The grounded sky knight asks, laughing as he rides off ahead of me. I roll my eyes again, but I smile a bit too. Maybe sharing my problems with him isn't the worst of ideas.

Anyway, I've got a job to do.

* * *

We've been riding for an hour now, and I'm starting to get angry.

Way, way too far out from the rest of the troops. Off the beaten path and into the farmland of the country, new territory I've never seen before. The sun's starting to dip, I don't know when we're going to turn back.

Worst part is I'm starting to smell smoke. But nothing I can see either because of this damned brush we're riding in.

Finally, Blanche slides to a stop. Enough room that I can make a less violent pause. Both of us dismount, and I give my horse a few bites from my carrot before walking along with her.

"You were surprisingly quiet during the ride." Blanche chastises me. Again I strangle the urge to… well, strangle her. Not that it'd work, even outside of bed I'm fairly sure she's stronger than I am.

"Why are we here?" I cut to the point. No need to play her annoying games, it's bad enough that I came this far away from everyone else without questioning it.

She's stone faced. Uncomfortably so, usually she has that placid smile on her face and an air of demented serenity. Not now, now she's just twisted up and tightly wound. This entire situation smells like disaster. "A village was attacked, one of the messengers informed me. They also said the survivors were muttering things about Grimleal."

"So you brought me along? I told you, I'm not Grim-" She cuts me off, holding up a fist and remaining in place. I do the same, cautiously placing my hand on my rapier.

"Your father was Plegian, yes? So was his family?" I nod, acknowledging the fact tentatively. "Paired with your past, it wouldn't be wrong of me to assume you know a great deal of the Grimleal regardless of your allegiances?"

"Well…" Fair point, I know more about the cult than I would like. When I was younger, I ended up doing my own research in the past so we could find a way to deal with Grima beyond the Falchion. Nothing of substance came from it, but it gave me a crash course on everything cultist.

She presses on with her explanation anyway, not waiting for a full answer. "I need you with me. If there's Grimleal in Roseanne, they need to be eradicated. But there's things about them I don't understand, but your ilk will."

I growl a bit, shoving a finger into her breastplate. "Listen, lady. I might be a Ylissean to the bone, but Plegians don't deserve to be kicked around like trash."

The Cleric scoffs. "Rich, coming from the woman who's spent most of her life murdering Plegians."

I pull my hand back, still glowering. "Not Plegians, Risen. And I did that because I had to, not because I liked it."

"Of course, I'm sure that man who's face you beat into mist can attest." Blanche's words are so double-faced it hurts. She levels another glare at me, one filled with mistrust and disgust. Like I'm some kind of mass murderer dropped on her doorstep.

"I was _protecting_ one of your soldiers." I say, thinking back to the fight in the castle's hall.

"You **scarred** two children, and **terrified** everyone else." She counters, before continuing to walk in the direction we were heading before. "People thought you were some kind of demon."

I don't respond. I can't, if what she's saying is true… well, I can't blame them for being afraid of me.

As we finally clear the brush, we happen upon the ruins of what was something. Maybe a village. The way the rubble is scattered about, it'd fit the placement of a few houses and buildings. There's no farmland here, but I'm pretty sure I see a few charred furs hanging from a line off near the clearing's edge.

"Trapping village?" I ask.

Blanche grunts as we pass the first pile of rubble. "Many of our people our hunters and trappers. Not all food comes from crops, and one needs to make clothes from items other than cotton."

"Explains why it's this far off the beaten path." I muse, stepping over a large stone brick. The entire scene is eerily familiar. No bodies left behind, all the valuables untouched. A few traces of blood and the damage of fighting is the only thing present. Broken arrows and blades. Just like the aftermath of a risen attack in my real world.

That's when I see it, poking out from under a pile of charred wood.

The edge was easy to grab, I go down on a knee and pry it out with both hands. Resting in my grip is an old, yellowed mask. Stitch-work criss-crossing all over it, like artificial scars. Dead eye slits, black as night. An open maw with white studs poking out to resemble teeth. The nose was huge, cutting down the middle of the thing all the way up to where the forehead would be.

I can feel my right hand heating up, and my birthmark starts glowing for the first time since Grima died. Purple light piercing through the leather, the brand of the defile clearly seen burning through. Fell essence was flowing through this thing, it was the best confirmation I could ask for.

Blanche wandered over and noticed too. First my hand, then the mask. I could hear her gasp in shock as she made it what it was, then hear her step back. So I rise up to my full height, chucking the death mask away like a throwing star deep into the woods.

"This can't be possible." I hear her stammer out, looking out to the direction I hurled the mask in what can only be described as complete fear. "The Risen are dead. They can't be back! It's impossible for them to be back!"

"Something's only impossible until it isn't." I comment, but that doesn't seem to help the situation. Seeing the risen mask again's sent the woman into a full-blown panic attack. Hyperventilating, eyes bulging, holding her head in her hands. Basically all the feelings I have inside me too, but I've got the self-control to contain them.

"Will you _relax?_ " I spit out, drawing out my sword and scanning the area round us. My hand's still glowing, which means there's something here that's still got Grima's gunk all over it. If it's more risen, having a clergy woman freaking out is the last thing I need to deal with in the middle of a fight.

And if right on queue, I hear the growls start.

It snaps Blanche out of her delusion, at least. Never seen someone whip out an axe faster in my life. Out of instinct she sets herself up at my back, gritting her teeth and turning her head about to scan the horizon. "We need to get back to the horses immediately." She stammers out.

"And what, leave these things to kill off another village?" I ask, twisting my hands harsher around the hilt of my weapon. I see two figures make their way out of the brush, dressed up in mercenary gear just like me. "Two of them coming my way. You?"

"Another two over here." She says over my shoulder, adjusting her footing. "It's been years since I've fought these things."

"You and me both." I mutter, quickly pulling up everything I can remember about fighting zombies. "Remember, they're fast but they're clumsy. Make them fall over themselves."

"What in the name of Naga are they even _doing_ here?" I feel her take a step away from me as my own two targets meander closer and closer.

"Questions to ask when we aren't about to be murdered. On the count of three, we rush them. Alright?" Again I hear her grunt, a shaky one but there.

She's the last person I would've ever imagined going back to back with, but beggars can't be choosers. Naga knows I'm not dying here away from my family. "Right…. **Three!** "

We both lunge forward and sprint at the shambling corpses. I hop over a pile of rubble, using it as a springboard to launch into the air. As I start coming down, I aim my blade right for the head of the beast. The steel hits it's mark, injecting itself into the fallen man's eye socket and ripping all the way through his skull. No blood, just dust and smoke.

Both of us topple down to the ground, and I use my momentum to tuck into a roll and get myself away from the risen that's still standing. As I get back up, the swordsman is already sprinting at me. So, I turn to my side. Level my shoulder mounted shield at him and brace as he slashes wildly towards me. One, two, three, four, five strikes in quick fashion. The last attack glances off the steel, and causes him to stumble. That's when I grab his sword hand, and shove my own sword right up his head from the bottom. He goes twitchy for a bit, before just evaporating away into smog in my grip.

As the ash clears and I finally stop coughing, I can see that the other Risen's trying to get itself back up. It's depth perception must be a bit screwed now that it only has one eye, which makes it easy for me to come up behind it and kick it back down. From there I just press my boot against the base of its neck and twist right, snapping it apart and sending it packing as well.

With that little scuffle out of the way, I rush back over towards the center to see how Blanche is doing. What I'm expecting is a cleric way out of her league, especially saying how she was having a breakdown just two minutes prior.

What I see is something else, that's honestly unnerving.

One of the risen is already on the ground, twitching like a bug that was zapped by lightning. Blanche's combat axe is lodged deep in it's head, to the point where it's gone completely through the risen and is dug into the ground. In fact… I think it's _pinning_ it in place. All the while it just keeps writhing there.

Blanche herself has decided to engage her other opponent unarmed. Seeing this I start running over with my rapier at the ready, fighting a risen without a weapon is about as suicidal as you can get.

That's when she grabs the risen by then neck and the arm.

Then, through sheer brute strength, she rips the thing's **arm off.**

After that she lifts the risen off of the ground, then spikes it back down head first. Finally she just starts bludgeoning the thing with it's own limb. Hitting it again, and again and again. It's mortifying, the only other people I've seen in my life with this much strength are a pair of Nohrian knights named Effie and Benny, and and old friend I know called Kjelle. And even then, I'm not sure if they could pull this off.

While she's doing this, the axe'd risen finally stops moving and starts floating away as a wave of ash. My hand's still burning up from my mark's activation. Against my better judgement, I sheath my sword and remove my glove to get a better look.

It's purple. Like the markings on Daddy and Morgan's coat. Pulsating like veins with blood flowing through them. Growing up, I always hated this thing. Neither of us really knew what it meant at first, and anyone who saw it outside the shepherds would attack Morgan and I on sight. Everyone assumed we were risen, or grimleal, or some unholy mix of the two.

Either way it feels disgusting to see active again.

I slip the glove back on as I hear the clobbering stop, crouching down to grab Blanche's axe out from the dirt. As she makes her way back, I toss her lost weapon back over to her. She grabs it out of the air rather easily, slipping it back into it's holster and giving me a quick look. "Are you well? I have a mend staff in my kit."

I scoff because I have to, grinning slightly at one of her rare moments of charity towards me. "Is her holiness showing concern for a filthy Plegian? Be still my heart, I think I may faint."

She rolls her eyes and turns around, walking back towards the horses.

"Worthless heretic." Blanche throws over her shoulder as some final words, glad that the whole foray was over.

Me? I'm standing there, having a good laugh before I start leaving the area myself.


	16. C-13: Confessional

Now that the fighting's over, it's _my_ turn to panic.

As we move back towards the horses, a thousand scenarios keep playing through my imagination. The risen are back, somehow. Which means means my father died for even less than he already has. It also means that we've got a third party to fight, on top of the Valentians. And on top of **that,** it puts Gods knows how many people in danger with most of the military heading off to the warfront.

It doesn't make any sense. Risen are Grimleal creations, no one outside of the cult can raise them. But they're here, which means the Grimleal have to be here.

Did they flee to Valm after Grima got killed…? No, no. There's no way they could've made it off of Archenea. Validar handed over their entire fleet for the invasion, and any ship flying Plegian colors was asking for a deathwish after what happened. That isn't even factoring in how militant the people here are against the cult. Any whiff of fell essence would've sent the entire Valmese church into a feeding frenzy.

I'm missing something important about all of this, and that needs to change.

When we get back to our mounts, I hop into the saddle and take out a compass. I can hear Blanche unfurling a map behind me. "What direction is the nearest town?" I call out, scanning forest for any more uninvited guests.

"Lorraine is to the south, another few hours ride away at the least. And not in the direction of the march." She answers, grumbling something to herself.

I'm muttering curses under my breath. Spending more time away from the others is a bad idea. We're already way too late to come back in time for the first camp. May as well just keep riding on my own, have Blanche go back and tell them I'll join them in a few days. Subaki'll be furious, Caeldori will be upset that I didn't bring her along. But this isn't something I can put off.

My ears perk up as I hear a bird squawk behind me, and I turn to see Blanche cradling a grey pigeon in her hands. There's a quill balanced on the back of her horse, and a bit of parchment is easily seen tied to the leg of the animal in her grasp. A courier pigeon, great. That means she has the same idea I do.

"You sure leaving the Army without its leader is the best move?" I ask, watching the pigeon kick off and flutter away in the direction we came from. Within a minute it's out of sight, above the treeline.

"They have Virion. He's our leader, I merely help where I can." She replies, sighing softly as she brings her mount around to face the south. Blanche trots up next to me, pointing in the direction that we need to go. "Besides, he has my cousin to keep him in line. Cherche knows enough about how to lead in my place. If anything, she has more experience than I do."

That sounds like a load of pegasus dung, and an all around horrible idea. "That doesn't _mean_ anything. I could just ride down there, ask around for some information, then come back on my own. One person is going to be faster than two here, and we're already on borrowed time."

"They will not be willing to speak with _you_ , Volker. One look at an outsider and you will be shunned like a common criminal." She answers sharply, not even giving the idea some thought. She's totally hellbent on going with me. "Lorraine has a chapel in the town square. Anything that happens, the curate will know."

Really. She's expecting a caretaker to know what the hell is going on? "What, this guy omnipotent? Or does he double as a spy?" I ask jokingly, quickly gaining the ire of Blanche once more. Every time she makes that sour, disgusted face, I can feel my soul smile just a bit more.

"Why would I expect a heretic to understand…?" She asks, before riding off towards the brush in a huff. I'm sniggering happily as I follow. I don't know why she's coming, I don't know why she didn't try to send me back to the convoy. I do know there's a mystery going on, and that every person in the country's at bigger risk now than they were before.

Why do things always seem like they're constantly getting worse?

* * *

Lorraine's bigger than I expected. Instead of a crowd of huts surrounding a wooden shack, we wander into a full blown town. Cobbled streets, market stalls, a rather large stone building at the epicenter of a circular ring of other stone buildings. The roads are a bit tight, about only a carriage wide, but it doesn't seem like too many people live here. By the time we reach the town center it's already twilight, the dim lamp fires showing us the way.

Instead of just heading to the chapel and getting the information, Blanche insists we wait until tomorrow so we can avoid drawing any attention to ourselves. So the two of us just stumble into a tavern and rent a room, before I end up collapsing into the nearest stall. Her Holiness makes a point of sitting on the opposite side of the bench, clearly keeping me at arm's length as I just rest my head on the table-top.

It's a small place. Four tables and a few booths, a square bar off in the corner with a modest stock of drinks. The staircase in the corner clearly leads upwards to the rooms, and there's a door in the back corner that probably goes to the kitchen. A pair of orange cats are randomly prowling, slipping between our legs at random. I guess they're trying to find out if we're friendly or not.

"Give me a break, we've been riding for ages." I protest, not even bothering to lift my head up. My arse is killing me, my back is sore, I'm pretty sure there's at least five bugs in my hair. Plus the trek through the woods painting my uniform with a thousand different grass strains. I _just_ washed this thing, too. Now I look like a green and black quilt.

"Would it be so hard for you to be even remotely professional?" I hear her crone from across my position. The sound drumming against the wood is probably her fingers, or a stupidly large bug. Either way I don't think it's something I care to lift my eyes up and see.

"I dunno, Blanche-y. Would it kill you to lay off?" I grumble back. So tired I can't even muster a proper insult.

"I'm the highest ranking member of an Army, yes it likely would result in my demise _and_ in the demise of others to 'lay off'." She replies in the same annoyed monotone. Everyone else she speaks with happily, just like her cousin. Me? It's like I'm a bug on her windshield. Ever since we've met she never gave me a chance. I don't know what I did wrong.

I just groan again, lifting myself up only to slouch down against the backrest. "You remind of Lucina. Except somehow even more annoying. I didn't even think that was possible."

Now I can see her roll her eyes. Honestly this is the first time I've really focused on her face. She's more rounded than Cherche, her eyes and chin are less pronounced. Hair is done into an extremely tight bun, irises a deep red. Younger than the Duchess too, barely more than my age. Except wrinkled as well. Another person who had to grow up faster than they wanted I guess.

"For someone who claims to be an experienced soldier, you have very clear problems with authority." She rattles off. It's becoming white noise at this point, everything this woman says is a complaint.

"Yeah, yeah. My shrink says the same thing. Come to Ylisstol, I'll give you his address." I laugh up at the ceiling, the idea of Blanche rambling her problems off to Laurent as he took notes probably being the funniest image I'll have today.

"Why am I not surprised you have been in therapy…?" We both clam up as the tavern keeper makes his way over with two mugs and a bottle. Blanche waves him off as he goes to fill her tankard, meanwhile I just point to mine and keep waving for him to give me more.

"More… more.. M- you know what, give me the bottle." I snatch the thing out of his grasp, waving him off while he stares at me off guard. As he takes his leave I down three gulps of the swill, filling out the rest of my mug and leaving the half-empty bottle on the table. Finally, my body actually starts to unwind a bit. Thank you, alcohol…

Another annoyed groan comes from the Priestess, and now I'm getting tired of her little exclamations. It's been a long enough day and I don't need a walking cloister making it even longer. "Right, why are you even sitting in this booth? The entire bar's empty. You could just head up to the room and leave me alone."

"Because I refuse to let a Plegian roam freely in the countryside." She quips back, spiking my anger even more. Blanche's lips curl into a pleased smirk as I grimace at her. "You should be thanking me, dear. Without my escort I doubt the people in this tavern would even be willing to serve you."

"I. Am. Not. Plegian." I hiss out. I'm Ylissean, I've been Ylissean my entire life. Sure, I'm a bit more pale than the rest of the Shepherds, paler than Morgan. But that doesn't change where I was born.

This statement doesn't seem to phase her Holiness in the slightest. "A half-breed is still at least half a problem. And I doubt most care would care regardless of your being a pure breed or a half-breed."

Why am I even bothering at this point, it's like yelling at a stone wall. I grab the bottle and go for another swig, but pause right before I bring it to my lips. "Talk about me like a dog one more time I break this bottle across your head."

"And then I break your arms, and drag you back to the convoy in pieces." She answers, threat for threat. She has the strength, but I can take her in a fight. It's clear she doesn't have as much combat skill as I do, how she relies so much on brute force. But, she doesn't stop talking. "Honestly, how in the world are _you_ the daughter of two of the greatest heroes of the Halidom? You're loud, vain, bombastic, irritating and simply _vile._ "

"You wanted sweet, happy and a head full of sunshine, you picked the wrong sister." I take another long swig from the bottle, before putting it back down once more. "There's a question, why did you bring _me_ on this little adventure? Morgan basically an expert on all things Grima. Plus you clearly enjoy her presence more."

"Because she has more critical duties than you." She informs me, crossing her arms over her armored chest. "And because, loath as I do to offer you anything resembling a compliment, you're a better combatant in a straight fight. I suppose out of all of your flaws, you need _one_ merit."

"Shove **off!** " I spit back, losing my temper entirely. Both my hands slam onto the tabletop, rocking the bottle, the tankards and making Miss Priss jump up a bit. I can see the owner of the place crane his head over as well, but at this point I'm too mad to care. "I am sick and **tired** of getting treated like some sort of second class citizen by you! Yeah, my Dad's from Plegia! His ancestors were Plegian, and I ended up getting my skin tone from him. News flash, sister. **That doesn't make me a bad guy!** I was born in Ylisstol! I grew up in Ylisse! I've worked for the Exalts since I was a **teenager** , and **I'm part of the Divine church!** So **lay the hell off, before I get violent! Got it!?"**

Footsteps are starting to rumble above my head from one of the rooms. Both the owner and the barkeeper are looking at me like I've escaped from a sanitarium. The cats're gone, guess I showed them just how friendly I really am. Meanwhile Blanche is staring at me, unimpressed and unamused. "Sit down. I'd rather not be forced to find another place to spend the night."

My sense overtakes my rage, and I comply, lowering myself back into my seat. Our eyes remain aimed at each other, my brown and her red beaming back and forth. Silence rules the room for a few minutes, Blanche taking the opportunity to fill out her own mug with the rest of the bottle.

When she rests it back down, she finally speaks again. "Morgan told me you were a lapsed member."

I snort. Wonder what brought that topic up. "I don't like sermons. There's better things to do then sit around in Ylisstol's basilica. She's always been more of a church-goer than me."

"Still makes you a heretic my dear. But I don't think you're Grimleal anymore, speaking with your spouse showed that much."

That gives me a bit of pause. "You questioned Subaki?"

She shakes her head, sipping her drink nonchalantly. "I had a casual conversation with him. Rather charming man, actually." She muses happily, smiling to herself. "Wonder if I could find someone like that."

"Get an attitude adjustment, it'll work wonders." I jab.

"The pot calls out the kettle, I see."

Good counter, I'll give her that.

That seems to lighten her mood ever so slightly. "I had different expectations for you, Captain. The Duke and the Duchess speak very highly of you. Your pedigree also stands out for itself."

"Don't take your disappointment out on me."

She shrugs. "I try not to. But it's hard to adjust with the reality of who sits before me."

"Yeah, well. I've got a thing about disappointing people." I mutter darkly. Past, present and future, seems everything I do gets overshadowed by my perfect family.

Biggest plus of Nohr, no one knew who I was or where I came from. No reputations to uphold, no expectations to meet. Sweet, sweet freedom.

"I can tell, you're a rather damaged individual." Again my eyes narrow, but she shakes her head once more. "I didn't mean that as a quip, dear. Anyone can tell you carry more baggage than most."

That's a laugh, coming from her. "Now the kettle's calling out the pot. My neck still has marks, you know."

"Ah… right…" She looks away from me, eyes flickering about. Is that shame I see? "I do apologize for that. It was completely out of line."

"Yeah, you were." I answer.

"...Things were extreme when Grima rose again." She explains, sighing deeply. Her demeanor shifted from haughty and superior to depressed and morose all at once. Her shoulders slumped, her face sagged, even her eyes seemed to dim. "I'd just spent five years fighting people. Now I had to defend what was left from those I had already felled. It may not excuse my behavior, but I hope it provides... context."

I grumble in understanding. If Valm was even a fraction of how bad things were in my future… I can't wish that amount of suffering on anybody. Fields of fire, pits filled with the dead. Families and settlements wiped out in the blink of an eye. Everything you ever had being lost, and there being nothing you could do about it. And if you tried, you just died. Then you came back as one of _them_ , and you kept spreading the misery you failed to contain.

"I was there when Virion fled Roseanne." She reminisces. "The Valmese Army swept over us in a day, with Walhart riding at the front. Our forces were in total disarray without him, most of the militia surrendered at once. Meanwhile I was in the cathedral, trying to keep who I could safe while we were battered by trebuchets. When word came to us that he ran..."

"You felt forgotten?" I try to fill in.

"I felt betrayed." Blanche corrects. "I still do. Before that day I'd never picked up an axe in my life. I'd never killed a man in my life either. I'm a cleric, I'm supposed to heal the sick and care for the uncared."

"Life has a tendency to flip our expectations."

"How pognient of you to say." She notes.

"Yeah, well, I'm clever." I boast. One look at my tankard gives away that it's already half-empty, have I really been drinking that much?

She ponders that for a second. "Hrm. I was given that reality check at Stieger. Having a lance nearly slipped into your ribs does that."

"I'd guess fighting with the Resistance would've been pretty hard for a nancy like yourself." I know it's petty at this point, but after the hell she's put me through today I'm taking as many chips as I can.

"I wasn't part of Empress Say'ri's resistance, dear." She amends, averting her eyes once more as I stared over at her. There were three parties at Stieger, and if she wasn't with the Resistance or the League, well. Doesn't take a genius to find out what group she was with.

She finishes off her mug, setting it down as she tries to stabilize herself from the intoxication. "As I told you. Virion and Cherche tend to forgive people who don't deserve it."

If she's looking for sympathy, she's already burned that bridge and pissed in the ashes. "You've got some nerve judging me after the things you've done then, lady."

Again, a shrug. She pushes herself up to her feet and leaves the table without a word. The tavern keeper wanders over, hand outstretched and still silent. Begrudgingly, I empty out my purse and pay him for the bottle. Can't believe this, she lambasts me for every mistake I make and she's the one who's actually committed treason.

And people say I'm insufferable.

* * *

By the time dawn rolls around, we're both standing in the center of an empty chapel. The local curate sneered a bit when he saw me coming, but Blanche's hand-wave made him stand down. More and more I'm starting to realize how differently the people in Valm look at me now. Most of them avert their eyes, stick to the other side of the street. Some of them just stare at me like I'm some kind of ghoul. A few look ready to attack me on a whim.

On the walk here I kept my hand clutched around my sword, expecting to get jumped the entire way. Blanche tried to calm me down, but honestly she was the last person I believed when she told me that no one was going to try something.

The place is a simple enough set up, four rows of pews facing an altar at the front. An intricate portrait of Naga clearly posed upwards, surveying everything and everyone who would sit in the main hall. The windows were given a green tint, a recreation of the Mila tree rest in each one. Nothing grand, but more then one would expect for a town out in the sticks.

The curate locked the door behind us and made his way into a back room, leaving us alone for a few moments. By some grace of luck, Blanche decides to inspect the altar piece instead of speaking with me. So I just sit down in a pew and let myself stew in my thoughts.

It's at this point in the story, the hero's supposed to bow their head and pray for good luck. Ask for Naga's blessing, request good fortune, try and find 'spiritual guidance' or some crap. I just want to get out of here, churches give me nothing but bad memories. Priests in the future didn't show me any kindness either when they saw my birthmark. And it only got worse as Grima got worse. Besides, Naga has bigger problems to deal with.

"What are you doing?" I hear an older male voice grumble. The curate's back, his dark skin, squinted eyes and grey bushy beard brandished in front of me in all their glory. He's got a healing stave with him, but he clearly uses it mostly as a cane.

I look around him to see why he's addressing me instead of his fellow clergywoman, but now I can see Blanche is the one indulging in prayer time. Great, now I have to entertain the stooly.

"Sitting and waiting. What're you doing, trying out for the world's oldest perv contest? Eyes're up here." Don't know what he's staring at, honestly, but I'd rather not take any chances with the old coot getting a free peep show.

"I'm too old to be ogling women a quarter of my age." He rumbles back, giving my leg a tap with his cane. "Move down a bit, I'd like to sit in my chapel. Gods know when you get my age, you can't get enough rest."

"Isn't this supposed to be Naga's chapel?" I question, but comply. I move down a bit so he can have some room to sit. He smells oddly… fruity. Actually, the entire place kind of has a bit of an apple scent floating around.

I swear, his entire body creeks like a broken door when he sits down. I'm afraid he's gonna shatter into a pile of bones. "When Naga cleans this place every day and keeps it running, it'll be her's. Right now it's just in her service."

I'm suppressing a smile. Rather poorly, but trying. "Well, it's not falling apart. So you're not _terrible_ at your job."

"Sixty years of practice, youngin'. Gives you plenty of time to make mistakes and learn from'em." He explains, yawning a bit before he extends a hand over. "Jules. You get to call me Father Jules."

"Really?" I ask. Titles, titles, titles. Why is everyone on this continent so obsessed with _titles?_

Reluctantly taking his hand and shaking it. "Fine, 'Father' Jules. Why're you talking to me?"

"Not everyday a Plegian walks into my chapel." Jules crones, retracting his hand and wrapping it back around his staff.

"You sure I'm Plegian? Maybe I'm just a sickly little girl." I continue mockingly, shifting my gaze back towards the hanging portrait of Naga. Or… is that Naga? Her hair seems off, and her ears are too pointed. There's a basket of fruit in her hands too. Plus she has a different set of clothes on than usual.

"Your aura, girl. You've got a Plegian's aura." He explains, waving his hand up and down along the height of my body. "Sarcastic, angry, bitter. Just like every other Plegian I've ever met."

"Nice to see I live up to the stereotype." I'm focusing even more on the portait. Who is this? She's got green wings floating out along her side, along with a different headdress than I remember. Did she change shape when she appeared to us in our timeline? Or…

"That ain't the Divine Mother, girl." Jules pipes up, leaning deeper into the pew. "That's Mila. One of the old Goddesses of the continent."

"Never heard of her." I admit.

"Course you haven't, you Archeneans never worshiped'er or 'er brother." He points out her features, specifically the basket in her hands. "We call'er the Earth Mother. Legend says she used to walk the continent, bless crops and help the sick." Jules grumbles once more, resting his hands and his staff in his lap. "What's your name then, girl?"

"Severa. I'm with the Ylisseans." I inform him, tapping the brand of the Exalt I've gotten stitched onto my right sleeve. Easy way for people to tell what side I'm on.

"Hm. A Plegian, workin' for the Ylisseans, here on Valm, wearin' clothes I ain't seen from anywhere." He lists off, nodding up and down as he strokes that mangy bush of facial hair.

"I'm from Ylisse, don't worry. I've just got some… mixed ancestry." Am I gonna need to sing this song and dance with everyone here? Because it's gonna get really old, really fast if I need to tell everyone where I'm from so they stop getting shifty.

"Right. Even if you were full Plegian, I ain't afraid of no one but my wife. And you ain't her by a long shot." He states. "Besides, I don't care if you're all the way from Elibe." Was his reply, like he was stating the obvious to a really dumb toddler. "It's a church, this place is supposed to be for everyone who needs it."

I don't buy the kindness, especially with how he looked at me when I was walking over here. Everyone here's always seemed to have two faces when it comes to me. "You're literally the only person who's said they don't care, old man."

"Then maybe I need to start adjustin' my sermons, because that don't sound like something Naga'd be too pleased about." He affirms, giving my leg a tap with the orb that rests on his staff. "And it's 'Father Jules', remember? The old man was my papa, and he ain't with us anymore."

I chuckle softly at the correction, lifting my head at the patter of footsteps on the stonework as Blanche finally makes her way over. She bows her head down once, and Jules stands up to do the same. "Father Jules, it's been too long."

"Since you packed up, left my keister here, and became a big-wig cleric in the city? Yeah, it has." He speaks pretty gruffly, but you start to sense the hints of affection hidden in his words. Some people really only know how to talk one way I guess.

"I wish this was a casual visit, but we actually came here over pressing matters."

"It's the Risen, ain't it?" He asks almost immediately. Both of us stare at him, stunned, before he rolls his eyes and smacks the ground with his staff. "I ain't senile yet, folks here've said they've been seein' those demons prowlin' again. Plus I had a little visit from the Voice about'em last week."

"Wait… _Lady Tiki_ was here?" I ask, grabbing hold of the pew at my front and pulling myself up. I didn't even know if Tiki was still on Valm, let alone in Roseanne. She knows about the Risen too? Why didn't she come to warn Virion then? Why isn't word being spread around about this!?

"Asked some questions, then left me this. Said to give it to whoever came 'round askin' about'em next." From under his robes, he pulls out another Risen mask. This one singed around the edges, but the center piece was still clean enough for one to tell what it was. My hand started to react on it's own, the purple sheen coming to light. But I think I cover my hand fast enough that the curate doesn't seem to notice.

"How did she know we would…?" Blanche asks in disbelief, taking hold of the mask and cradling it in her arms. Said arms were shaking again, even when the mask was dead the Risen it belonged to seemed to haunt her.

"She's a livin' Goddess, girl. Didn't I teach you not to try and make sense of Manaketes?" Jules rattles off impatiently, giving Blanche a quick whap in the leg. She dances on one foot for a bit, seething at the old man. Sweet, sweet karma.

"Where'd Tiki go?" I ask quickly, wanting to cut to the chase. If she's already ran into the Risen, then that means she might be able to help us deal with the problem.

"Chon'sin. Don't know why, didn't ask. All I know is she left in a hurry after she gave me that." Jules waves to the mask in Blanche's grasp, and I'm left fuming off to the side. Of course you didn't ask, you useless old fart! That might've made this easier for us!

"And the reports you've heard personally, they're from your parishioners?" Blanche follows up, tucking the mask into her sack like it was one of Miriel and Laurent's lit fire bombs.

"The ones who live close to the border. E'rywhere else, I ain't heard heads or tails about any risen."

Blanche's brow furrows in thought. "The only border here is to the southwest…"

"Isn't that where the the Army's headed already?" I ask quickly, looking between the both of them. Jules just shrugs, why in the hell would he know? Why in the world am I even still talking with him?

"It is. Which means we already know where to head next." Blanche confirms. She moves to go for the door, but not before the old man wraps his hand around her arm.

"Not yet. I need to have a word with you." He glances my way, nodding slowly. "In private, Miss Severa."

"...Yeah. Alright." I slink away, giving the two one last look of confusion as they huddle back towards the rear room of the chapel. Not like I have time to protest, we need to get the horses ready and ride back to the others.

Right before I close the door behind me, I can hear the two muttering something about fell essence and tomes. Religious nonsense I won't even bother to try and understand right now, there's other priorities.

I stomp out of the building and rush down the street, ignoring the odd looks everyone's giving the redheaded girl as she storms out into the open at the break of dawn. Worst case scenario, everyone's about to run into the middle of a risen hive. Which means Subaki and Caeldori might end up finding out first hand what made me who I am today. That can't happen, I can't let any of it happen again.

I won't let it happen again. My future is _not_ going to be a repeat of my past.


	17. P-2: To Be Worldly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgot to update the Ao3 uploads. My bad.

It'd been far too long since Virion had found himself in a proper skirmish. The role of statesman forced him to take a back seat when combat came to be, but this War on his home meant he had to fight once more. If only to finally make peace with the flight he took the first time his Roseanne was threatened.

But he didn't expect his grand return into the fray to be so much like the last time he had taken up arms. Duke Virion came to defend his people against other people, not Risen.

Blanche's carrier pigeon had arrived a few hours before they saw the smoke billowing over the horizon. He cursed the idea of not having his Brigadier on call, but he knew Blanche would make her way in due time. Severa, on the other hand… if something happened to that girl while she was under his care, he doubted he could ever face her mother again.

Those thoughts were banished quickly. After the smoke signal came the fleeing townsfolk. Farmers clutching their tools as makeshift weapons, townies clutching whatever they could carry in their arms and over their backs. Parents escorting still terrified children behind the Army's lines. The dark night was illuminated by a deep orange hue as fire blazed. 'Risen, risen, risen!' They cried the word like a demonic chant, over and over. Warning any and all they could.

Virion ran off towards the town out of instinct. He didn't pay attention to his men, rushing between them as they tried to help the wounded. He paid no mind to his wife as she tried to make him wait for her. The only thing on his mind was the damage laid out before him, and containing it as quickly as he could.

He didn't stop running, even when the first Risen stumbled out from behind a blazing pile of refuse. The Duke merely nocked a bow and fired it off, the arrowhead ripping through the undead's skull and pinning it against a cobblestone wall. It still lived, but weakly flailed in place, smoke pouring from the wound in the place of blood.

Virion kept going regardless. Vaulting over a derelict cart, causing a basket of apples to fall off in the process. Feathering a second Risen as it howled wildly on the roof of another home, a missle to the throat ended his vocal career swiftly. The living corpse tumbled down unceremoniously, dissipating into a cloud of smog.

As he finally came to a halt, Virion realized that he'd rushed headlong into the town without even a thought as to what he would do upon his arrival. Instinct carried him to this point, and now he was finally able to sort through his thoughts. Escorting out any forlorn survivors came first to mind, but then he thought it would be rather pointless without securing the area. But then came the realization that he had no idea how many risen were even assaulting the hamlet.

Such introspection was cut off quickly, however. An arrow, not his own much to his dismay, tore past him and along his arm. A second glanced against the backplate of his armor as he dove for cover back behind the cart he had initially clambered over, ears tuning into the sounds of more growling risen approaching him. One look at his arm showed that it was a flesh wound, a bit of red seeping from the shallow cut. Not debilitating, but a strike against his own ego.

"Perhaps I have gotten too careless…" He grumbled, resting his head against the cart and preparing his bow. Two arrows against the string for the three pairs of feet he heard stumbling ever closer. Time fighting risen taught him that they enjoyed moving in clumps. One often shambling in front of the other. In the end they were still all creatures of decayed flesh and bone, and were just as malleable as their original living forms.

They were twenty paces away by his estimate, and waiting any longer put him at the risk of a counter attack. Quickly the Duke tore around the corner, standing on a knee as he affixed his aim upon his targets. As he let loose his arrows, they zoomed where he had fired. One embedding itself in the heart of a myrmidon, the other punching through the same target and into the cranium of an archer that was wandering up behind. Both targets crumpled onto the ground, but the third still came forth. A knight, wrapped in his rusted armor and face shrouded in an old battlemask.

Virion sharply readied a new missile, firing and striking the beast in the eye. Still, it moved forth, barely reacting to the loss of sight. Then he fired once more, taking it's remaining eye. It stopped in place now, but not from pain. Merely turning it's head back and forth, unable to tell where it was. The world was nothing but darkness for the creature, robbed of it's sight entirely.

Garnering this, Virion slung his bow over his shoulder once more and drew the long estoc from his side. Slowly the nobleman came forward, approaching his ignorant prey directly. The knight turned about slowly, trying to get it's bearings like a dog searching for it's lost master. It did a full circle, turning once more to face Virion. Just in time for him to slip his blade right into the mouth of the mask.

From there, the beast finally evaporated into a nothing but a derelict pile of weaponry and armor. The only remainder from the beast was the risen's mask, loosely hanging off of the blade of Virion's sword.

Flinging the thing off into the distance, he sheathed his sidearm and returned to his preferred weapon. Lifting his hand to do a quick count, he discerned that there were four more arrows left in his quill. Had he known he would be sallying off into combat sooner, the sniper would have brought more than his lightest kit. Risen still cried deeper into the town, his work was not done yet. But even now he saw that rushing in further would be beyond foolhardy. Waiting for the bodyguard cadre to arrive would be wiser. More fighters, less risk for all involved.

That was until he heard the pained cries of a man. A living man, hopeless and afraid. Any thoughts of waiting were banished from his mind as he restarted his sprint.

As he ran, the sound of came from behind him. Whether or not it was a risen cavalier or one of his own, he didn't intend to wait and find out. Instead he kept pressing, following the blood curdling screams of the lost villager. He kept going, and going, until he found the source. A burning storefront, the roof completely ablaze and smoke pouring from the windows.

Of course he had gone inside regardless, kicking the door down and marching in with a drawn bowstring. A bit of searching and he found the fallen man, pinned to the floorboards by a charred beam behind the shop's counter. One arm was already charred and bleeding, the other had it's hand in the same state. Clearly he had been trying to free himself and failed. Off to the side was a woodcutter's axe, the blade covered in purple tinted dust.

Again, Virion drew his blade. Lopping off the sides of the beam and kicking it away from the man, before grabbing him by his unwounded arm and slinging it over his own shoulders. "Let us get you out of here, yes?"

The man nodded weakly, sucking in air to fill his now free lungs. "Th-thank you… Lord Virion." He managed out, limply keeping himself up as his liege guided him back out the door. Even such a simple task seemed like a struggle for the wounded man.

"But of course, my friend." Virion replied, grinning from ear to ear as the two crept through the blazing doorframe. "One need not thank their gallant savior for doing what is only natural, no?"

"Uh… right." The man agreed, deciding not to question the leader of the nation at such a time. As the cool night are rushed against his burnt skin, he cried in agony once more. Virion brought them both to a knee as the sound of collapsing wood shook from the store behind them, taking a flask from his hip and bringing it to the villager's mouth.

He readily drank the concoction happily, vitality and feeling returning to his desolate limbs. The pain was numbed, but the strength returned in full. Enough for him to fall free from the Duke's cradle and kneel upon his own strength. "Bon. You are a brave man, which I shall applaud. Almost as brave as myself, dare I say! But one man remaining alone is a bit foolish, no?"

"At the risk of sounding ungrateful, milord-" The villager started, forcing himself up and standing back fully. He clenched both hands again and again, making sure that he had full control of his body once more. "-I do believe we are both alone."

"Bah, I am not alone. I have… you! Yes!" The Duke protested, laughing happily as the cries of even more of the undead filled the air. Both men tensed, Virion readying his primary weapon in the direction of the cries.

Another group of six lifeless husks stumbled forth through a curtain of flame at the other side of the street, each of them clad in the light armor of a mercenary. Only four possessed weapons, but all seemed ready to assault their new prizes. Without another word, Virion took the estoc from his hip and offered it to the man at his side. "I observed the axe. You know how to fight?"

"The Imperials forced me to." The man clarified, taking the blade and rolling his shoulders. He took a proper stance, squaring himself and gripping the hilt of the thrusting saber with both hands. Virion internally sighed with relief, happy to not fight these things alone.

"Then let us begin!" Virion cried out, felling the first creature quickly with an arrow. His new companion advanced swiftly, reaching one of the risen just as the Duke feathered another target. Even wounded, the man managed five slashes in quick succession. Astra form, practiced as well. The flurry of strikes overwhelmed the slow shambler, tearing the first beast apart. He kept the momentum up, rushing into a third and skewering it's heart before it could counter his advance.

The final two happened upon him, though, taking advantage of his off-foot stance. He was brought to the ground by the first, pinned in place as it savagely bit at him. With all he strength he kept it at bay, right as an arrow head few into the top of it's scalp. The final risen also fell limply over, sharing the fate of it's brother.

The villager flung the evaporating carcass to the side, again going back to his feet and dusting his tunic off. "You seem rather composed, considering these demons are amongst us once more." Virion questioned, making his way over and inspecting the man for fresh injuries. His dresswear was a bit more elaborate than one would expect, resembling that of a mage lacking the hat, cape and long pants.

"That would likely be due to the shock and adrenaline." The man admitted, the panic from before still edged in his voice.

Virion chuckled at the thought, taking a step back once he was sure that the man was unharmed any further. "I will not complain in the meantime, then. Do you have a name, my friend? It feels rather awkward, saving you twice without knowing such a thing."

"Emmanuel." He answered, offering the blade back to Virion. The Duke took it freely, slipping it back into its sheath. "Sheriff of Geneve. Or what's left of her." He looked about at his town in dismay, running a hand through his half singed orange hair. "Stuck behind to make sure no one else needed saving. Ended up getting saved."

"Ah, the Gods have quite a sense of irony, no?" Virion joked, must to the man's clear detriment. It was then that another choir of cries filled the air, and more footsteps approached from behind them. "One that unfortunately never seems to run dry." He tacked on, his jovial nature finally wearing down.

Another trio approached, this time a horseless cavalier and a soldier paired with a proper mage. All of them were fully armed, the mage himself preparing a fist full of lightning as it locked upon it's targets. Virion instinctively went for his quill, only to grasp at air. Cursing to himself, he checked behind him. Nothing but fire was there.

"Do you know a path out of here?" He asked Emmanuel immediately. The Sheriff nodded, jutting a thumb over his shoulder towards side-road. But even in that direction, more beasts appeared to vocalize themselves. How many of the undead were here, exactly?

Just as it felt like they would be forced to flee, the sound of the horse from before broke though the night again. This time, paired with a wyvern's cry and the beating hoofs of its owner. Out of the blackness, a red haired knight smashed through the three risen. The mage was crushed beneath the horses legs. A flash of a naginata's blade shined, lopping off the heads of both melee combatants.

Subaki pulled up at the front of Virion and Emmanuel's sight. A sigh of relief left the Duke, and seconds later Minerva landed behind them with her rider clearly aboard. Both of the mounted troops disembarked from their respective steeds encompassing both within seconds.

Virion, naturally, turned to face his wife with a smile gladly present. "Cherche, my wonderful knight in shining armor! Come again to rescue me once more from the depths of-"

His monologue was cut off as his knight smashed her open palm across his face, nothing but anger and rage present from the Wyvern Lord as she gripped the sniper's collar and pulled it down to match her own height.

"If you ever, _**ever,**_ do something like that again. I won't even feed you to Minerva, I'll use you as her scratching post first. _Then_ you go into her belly. Understand?" She promised in a steeled town, hands keeping him in a still vice. Quickly, Virion nodded up and down, a drop of sweat coming upon his brow.

Cherche then looked at the wounded townsman, and her expression instantly softened into her usual calm and amicable self. "Oh dear, you're terribly hurt." She exclaimed, releasing her husband and moving over to Emmanuel. Virion himself took the chance to readjust his collar. "Come, come. Minerva and I will take you to our healers at once." She affirmed, guiding the man over before he could even protest. Not that he would, a free ride out of the blaze was exactly what he wanted.

"Ah, my dear? What about me?" Virion called as the two took their places upon the wyvern's back.

"Captain Takeda can ferry you back." Cherche chirped nonchalantly, clearly not planning to take her spouse anywhere at the moment. Knowing that it wasn't even worth complaining, Virion stayed silent as the Duchess took off into the air back towards where they came from.

Defeated, Virion turned to face a clearly amused Subaki. The sky knight turned bow knight was smiling happily, trying his best to keep a laugh down as Virion dejectedly slumped. Even his subordinates were taking joy at his pain.

"Well… that could have gone better." Virion admitted, readying himself back up and resuming his usual facade as he walked towards Subaki's horse. That was enough to get the Hoshidan to break out into laughter

Composing himself, Subaki fell in behind the noble as the two made their way back.

* * *

"For what it's worth, my wife would have reacted the same way." Subaki consoled.

The two men were now sitting at a controlled campfire back behind the army's line. A few Roseannian Commanders took their men forwards to purge the town and put out the fire. Morgan had her troops set up a perimeter around the town itself and the army's camp, along with the new recruits. All that remained in the rear now were the healers, a few mages and some logistical troops.

Virion still sighed, arms resting in his hands as he saw the fire dance wildly in it's cage. "I am aware, Severa has that tendency with people she cares for. As does her sister, both got it from Cordelia."

Subaki nodded in comprehension, poking the wood beneath the flame with a stick. "Does she resemble her mother very much?"

Virion snorted at the thought, his mouth curling a bit as he smirked from the memories. "Yes. More than the girl would like to admit. Both of them act very differently for the exact same reasons, I tend to find."

"Those reasons being?" Subaki questioned. Virion himself was unsure if this was idle small-talk or genuine curiosity from the foreigner's part, but there was no harm in giving him information about his own family.

"They want the people around them to do better. They want the people around them to be happy. They are both prideful and vain, while also being humble and simple in the same way." Virion explained, drawing what similarities he could between both of the red haired Ylisseans. He was still not used to Severa losing her snow white hair. That and the girl's pale tone was were the only physical traits she inherited from her father. "Neither knows how to handle failure or pain well. Neither enjoys being weak, and takes great strides to avoid it. Both are… exceptional women. I always did enjoy Cordelia's company."

"So much that you tried to bed her, according to Selena." Subaki commented, still chuckling to himself at Virion's expense.

Another thing he was yet to get used to, the name Severa had taken during her time away from home. Did she prefer her new alias? Or was she happier being known by her birth name? One of these days, he had to ask. "Bed her? Does she think me some heartless rogue, only interested in poaching the affections of the beauties of the world?" Virion questioned, sitting up and smiling again as always. "The great Virion is so much more than that! He is a soother of wounded souls! A healer of fractured hearts. One who comes forth, and aids the maidens of the world. Selflessly, and without hesitation!"

Subaki rolled his eyes, pulling his stick back and setting it to the side. "Keep saying that, I'm sure the Duchess would love to know about how you sooth the souls of women other than her."

"I…would prefer not." Virion admitted quickly, looking over his shoulder to see if his partner was within earshot. "Besides, those days are behind me. A cruel blow to the lovelorn across the land, for sure."

"But perhaps not their ears." Subaki mumbled.

"But, enough about me Captain!" Virion exclaimed, turning back to face Subaki. "I wish to know about you! The mystery man who has taken such a troubled girl's heart."

"I'm a fairly open book, your grace." Subaki readily admitted.

"Virion! Call me Virion! There is no need for formality among friends." He requested

"...Right. Well…" Subaki thought for a moment, before he spoke. "I come from a Kingdom known as Hoshido." As he said the name, Virion's eyes widened. "My family is a long line of sky knights. From the early days of our nation's existence, we rode pegesai. My mother and father did, just as my grandfather and his brother did, just as his grandmother, and so on."

"Men can ride pegasus in Hoshido?" Virion asked in fascination. The entire idea was alien to the man, the very idea of a pegasus knight was a feminine icon across Valm, Ylisse, Jugdral and Elibe.

"Indeed. The retenue was always rather mixed. My liege Princess Hinoka herself was one of the most skilled knights I knew. But of course, everything she learned, she learned from myself." Subaki smiled at the memory of showing a younger Hinoka the basics of mounting such a steed. Early on the woman had the same issue his wife still clung to, unfettered anger. But over time, as the two grew close, she learned to control it. Then, release it. They grew a bond as close as siblings during that time.

"A rider of high enough caliber to train royalty. I am impressed." Virion conceded. "Tell me, do you miss your home? Do you plan to visit it?"

The idea struck Subaki as silly, but he didn't take any offense from the question. It was harmless, Virion couldn't know about the fact that he couldn't return to Hoshido. Besides, he had a truth to the matter. "My home is with my daughter and my wife. The rest comes with them."

The Duke raised an eyebrow. "So sure of that belief?"

"Not completely sure, I admit." Subaki pressed further. "There are times I wonder about the land I left behind. How my friends, how my family are. If they miss me as much as I do miss them." Subaki admitted forlornly. Speaking from the heart was something he was trying to do more often, not wishing to keep up the air that had driven so many people from him back home. "But… one has to think about what makes them happy."

"One's family certainly does that."

"Indeed." Subaki agreed. "It's funny. When I was young, I never wanted a child. I found them to be obnoxious burdens. But then Selena became pregnant. And, well..." He thought back to his daughter's birth in that army tent. That July night was much like this one, dark and cool. A flippant monk named Azama acted as the midwife for the procedure, cracking crass jokes as Selena brought Caeldori into the world. He still remembered the feeling of holding her in his arms. So small, so warm, so radiant, even then. Instantly Subaki felt drawn to protect her from the world around them. Such a violent, irrational one where people died on the whims of another. He wanted her to be happy.

For the first time in his life, he wanted someone to be better than him.

"Say no more. As a fellow father, I understand." Virion finished, thinking back himself to when the Gerome of this time was born. He himself was the opposite, he looked forward to the day of becoming a father from a young age. But when that day finally came, when he held the infant boy in his own arms… all he had felt was fear. Fear that he wouldn't live up to the standard his son deserved.

Subaki looked over Virion shoulder, going deathly silent and standing up. The Captain shuffled away without a world, disappearing behind the wagon train. Virion, lost in thought, didn't notice until a new pair of boots came to a halt next to him. He looked up to see none other than Cherche. A pang of worry came to mind, and he quickly looked to discover Subaki's flight.

"...Well if you wish to expedite your earlier offer, there appear to be no witnesses." Virion meekly joked. Cherche didn't respond in kind, instead dragging a stool over and sitting herself next to the man. The woman's gloves and armor were gone, all that remained was her usual winged headdress and blouse. "I take it you heard the entire conversation?"

"Unfortunately for you, yes." The Duchess replied, though her tone lacked malice. In fact, it was softer than usual. Not happy, but sincere. "So, what do you think?" She asked.

"Severa is in good hands. She picked an honest man to wed." Virion affirmed, sighing in relief. "Were you also so lucky?"

"Remember what I said when you proposed, love. You have not strayed, so you remain as you are." The woman joked, laughing quietly before continuing her thought. "You feel very responsible for her."

"Truth be told, my dear, I feel responsible for all of the children." Virion stated, furrowing his brow as the other future children also came to mind. "They went through so much, and we became their only refuge. It feels like my duty to watch over them."

"You have enough duties as is." Cherche crooned, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Terribly uncompromising as always."

"Yet continuing in failure." The man's shoulders sagged as dread came over him. The exhaustion and realization of the night's events hit him all at once like a griffon tackle. The risen were back, the risen were attacking his people. He couldn't fight them and the Valentians at the same time. There weren't enough soldiers in the Duchy. He certainly couldn't do it alone, as today attested. "I thought that helping kill a devil like Grima would entitle me to an easier life. What a fool I was."

"Life does not get easier, we merely gain the skills to go through it more prepared." Cherche advised, giving the man's shoulder a squeeze. "You musn't blame yourself for things that are not your fault."

"Hm. Like the fact that our son and his wife and hanging by a thread in our home?" Virion asked bitterly.

"They will survive. I know it, as do you." Cherche replied.

"No, I do not." Virion stated. "I do not know that at all. For all I do know, they may already be dead. My grandson may be an orphan, all because I was foolish enough to let them come here to help."

"That was their choice, and neither would have accepted your refusal." Cherche spoke with a hardened tone, this time grabbing her husband's chin and turning it towards her. "Do you remember what I told you during the Liberation? What exactly did I tell you?"

"That you will put no account of me when you need to make the choices for what is best?" He answered in the same, depressed tone.

"Yes, and I stand by my answer to that." She started. "What else did I say?"

"You made me promise. Not to surrender to hopelessness and despair." He informed, recalling the conversation like it was a recent happening. The two were having it over a kettle of tea, right after they landed at Valm's main harbor and saved the then Princess Say'ri.

"Indeed. And you will not break that promise, under any circumstances. Or else there will be consequences."

"Let me guess, Minerva will have me as a snack?"

"Yes, but not on my order. Only because you'll have broken my heart completely." Cherche smiled at her husband, dropping her hands and grabbing his as she stared into his eyes. "You are a good man, my Lord. You do well, and you mean well. There is no one else I would rather have had as the father of my child."

"You give me more credit than evidence says I deserve." Virion begrudgingly stated. Behind his eyes however, there was that rekindling of hope. And the silent gratitude that his wife had come to light it back as the flames had nearly died out. She always did that for him. Beyond the threats. "Thank you for this, my rose."

"Anything for you, my love." Cherche answered. With that, the two leaned forwards and embraced. Sharing a kiss next to the crackling flames in peace.

* * *

Far away, on the eastern coast of the continent. A castle stood in the heart of the Kingdom of Valm. Green and yellow banners had long replaced the red and black of Walhart's dominion. The city of Rigel had been transformed after the war, revitalized. Under the new Royal, it's people also found prosperity and peace. People walked it's streets free of fear and want, commerce and good flowed in and out of the gates. Purpose and new rule had given the people back their lives, fresh and free.

So much so, that very few noticed the large shadow that flew above them and into Rigel Castle itself.

In the throne room, a young man by the name of Albien sat speaking to a pair of Generals. The King's armor was lighter than most royals, merely a grey chest piece and some pointed gauntlets. A tuft of green hair sat atop his head, along with a simple wreath crown. All was going the same as any other day as his Kingdom readied for the start of the coming war. Plans and supply lines, diplomacy and bargaining. Matters of state, those that frustratingly were taking more and more time away from the twenty year old's focus upon the direct issues of his own people. But his campaign was necessary, for their sake and all others.

When suddenly, a loud crash sounded on the other side of the throne room's door. All at once, everyone in the room came to attention. The royal guardsmen all drew their weapons, aiming them towards the door. The two generals spun about and drew their weapons, one bringing out an axe while the other hefted a short spear. Crash happened again, and again, like massive footsteps.

The doors were then smashed open at once, a large green figure stomping into the hall. Each step left an imprint upon the intricate tile, shaking the room wildly. The creature's wings lofted out around it's form, the head and eyes glaring forth and ignoring all those around it. It's focus was on a single man. King Albien, standing at the end of the hall.

"Stand down!" The king ordered, lifting both hands and waving to the men as he came forth. The guardsmen compiled without hesitation, lowering their weapons and resuming their posts. The two men reluctantly sheathed their own arms, glaring off at the large figure.

Albien appeared more annoyed than afraid, if anything. Marching at the creature with a pep in his step and a chip on his shoulder.

"Lady Tiki, with all due pardon, what in the name of the **seven hells** are you doing to this castle!?" He exclaimed, throwing his hands above his head in frustration. "Do you realize the damage you've caused? Did you injure anyone on the way here!?"

" **Your men refused me passage, so I admitted myself directly."** The manakete explained, maintaining her dragon form. Her mouth didn't open, instead her voice merely echoed about the chamber like it's own presence. " **You have much to answer for, King."**

Albien stopped in his tracks, folding his arms over his chest as he looked to the Divine Dragon. He wasn't afraid of the ancient woman, but he certainly was appalled. "Whatever happened must have been quite appalling, her Holiness usually isn't one for such violent methods."

" **That makes one of us."** Tiki rumbled, before finally opening her mouth. A small object fell from her mouth, clattering onto the floor at the feet of the young royal. He bent down to pick it up, shocked to see what it was.

"...This can't be real." He stated, glaring at the Risen mask now in his grasp.

" **You know better than to claim me a liar, Albien."** Tiki answered in kind, shifting forward so her snout was raised just above the boy's head. " **There is a dark essence in your domain."**

"You don't think me responsible for this, do you?" He retorted, gripping the mask and glaring at the large red eyes that bore down upon him. "I understand you do not agree with my campaign, your grace. But to accuse me of this? This _evil?_ I would never partake in such insanity!"

" **Yet you seem keen on repeating Walhart's follies."** The dragon rumbled back, rearing her head once more and sitting herself down on the floor. The room shook with that movement, sprinkles of dust coming down around them.

"We've had this debate before. My Uncle's means were unforgivable, but his ends are for the benefit of all in Valm." Albien answered, looking back down at the mask. Curses flowed through his mind like a river. Of all things to occur, this had to be it. "Where did you find this? I must send people to remove this ulcer immediately."

Something resembling a growl was his answer. " **The Risen from that party are all dealt with, young one. But more will come."**

"Then we need to act before this plague spreads to the rest of the damned continent!" Albien exclaimed once more, turning about to his Generals. "Get a pair of messengers here immediately!"

Both men bowed, then split off to follow their directives. All the while behind the royal, a green light shined brightly. Slowly, the dragon dissipated away. In its place stood a woman who appeared in her mid twenties, long green hair and a simple red vest being her two most notable features.

Albien turned back at once, moving forwards and offering the mask back to the woman. She took it back into her grasp, still glaring at him with distrust as he stood proudly in front of her. He wasn't afraid of Tiki, he knew the woman wouldn't harm him unless he fell to the same madness of his predecessor.

But the Risen? He feared them more than damnation itself.


	18. C-14: Play it Back

The ride back is mostly silent. Blanche is keeping to herself again, observing the trail and staying behind me. I doubt that we'll run into more risen out here anyway, the path we're on now is surrounded by fields on both sides. Unless they've learned to turn invisible, we'll be fine. Then again, after having to fight Anakos' Vallites, I think I've had my fill of invisible enemies to last me a lifetime.

Every once in a while I can see Blanche stare at me. Just long enough for me to notice, but quick enough that she's clearly trying to hide it. Ever since we spoke with the curate in Lorraine she's been acting more distant. Whatever camaraderie she was tried to drum up's dead in the air. Which, honestly isn't much of a loss. I don't fancy making friends with people who fought for Walhart's war machine.

Still, it's creeping me out.

"Are you gonna tell me what's wrong, your Holiness?" I call over my shoulder, Blanche's head shooting forward in surprise. It takes her a moment to force a scowl, but she starts trotting up to my side regardless.

"This road usually has farmers transporting goods. Yet we are the only ones here." She explains, though it's as if speaking to me is causing her physical pain with how her mouth's twisted. Is that even a sneer? Or is she trying to scratch her nose with her lip?

"There's a war on, they might've had a change of plans." I rationalize, taking a canteen off my hip and shaking it next to my ear. Empty, great. I swore I filled this thing up before we left too.

One more of her signature scoffs. She's looking at me like I said the stupidest thing in the world. "Not when your livelihood depends on crop sales. Then again, I doubt you know anything about farm work."

My eyes do a full rotation in my head. "Yeah, because I didn't grow up in the sticks. I'm a civilized girl."

"Everything I have seen from you points to the exact opposite of your being civilized." She answers in a deadpan.

"Says the genocide enabler." I spit back, and she immediately shuts up. So, mentioning her past can make her stop running her mouth. Good to know, pocket that information for later when I need to make her feel bad.

"Look." I start again. "There's a million different reasons why this road's empty. Let's not assume the worst."

"And if I'm right?" The Cleric asks in a small voice. I don't know what she's scared of, the risen or what happened to the town's people.

"Then we fix it." I answer. Then smile, before I keep rolling on. "Well, I fix it, and you bumble around like a ditz again."

I take her groan as a vote of confidence as we keep riding onwards. Maybe she deserves a bit more leeway than I'm giving her. Blanche is on the right side now, and she knows what she did was wrong. Plus she's Cherche's family, after the risen she might be the only family she has. But… ugh. Her attitude, her snot nosed tone of voice, the way she always looks at me like I'm an ant.

Mother would want me to be the better person, I know that. But why does it have to be so damn hard? Why does being _nice_ have to be hard for me now…

* * *

Apparently this pile of tinder used to be called Geneve. It was a larger settlement, lot of people lived here. But the town's completely empty now. Houses are hollow and even the dead have been moved. The place still reeks of risen, I find a few masks during our search still buried underneath the rubble. There's plenty of signs of struggle as well, and tracks leading all over the area. Which means…

"The Army was here for certain." Blanche explains, digging out a book from the ash and wiping the cover clean. She's cradling it like some kind of lost treasure, irises soft and wounded. Her mood always tends to shift with the mood of the setting. When others are relaxed, she's relaxed. When others are upset, she's upset. I guess that's why she's always wound up around me.

"That, or a stampede of cattle." I sit down on a beam of charred wood, sighing as I try to work the kinks out of my back. "What's the plan then, keep looking for risen or rejoin the main body?"

"I… I don't know." She moves over to stand at a ruined store front, leaning herself against the scorched cobble. Her Holiness' shoulders sag like they're being weighed down by stone as she flips the book open and begins to scan what's inside. "Do risen tend to clean up the dead?"

"No, but that's because the dead usually turn into risen." I clarify, wincing as I see more panic radiate from the clergywoman. "But I doubt that happened. You saw the tracks coming into and leaving the town."

Blanche muttered something under her breath, before turning a page. "Do you believe they evacuated the town?"

"Yeah, I do. So quit fussing." I order, stretching out both my legs and resting myself back. Not really the most comfortable of seating arrangements, but it's better than being stuck in a saddle with the leather riding up my hide again.

"...How do you take all of this in such stride?" Blanche asks me as she closes the book, holding it to her side as she moves in front of me and stares down. "An entire town burned to a crisp and it effects you about as much as a walk in the forest."

The answer should be obvious at this point, but I'll spell it out for her anyway. "I'm used to seeing the aftermath of these attacks. Burned down homes start to blur together after the first hundred."

"So you're simply desensitized." She replies, glare hardening back up. Suppose she didn't like that kind of answer.

"Yeah. I guess I am. I've seen enough villages burn and I've burned plenty myself." That last tidbit made her look at me warily. "The last nation I worked for invaded another one. The King basically had us destroy everything in our way."

"And you cooperated? You helped destroy homes?" I know that tone of voice all too well. Disbelief, resent, loathing. Can't even bring myself to look at her because for once she's honestly justified in all of that.

"If you're going to try and guilt trip me, Blanche, you're a bit late." I dismiss at once, shutting my eyes and thinking back to the start of Nohr's attack on Hoshido. "You can't make me feel any worse about it."

Everywhere I go it's the same story. Someone or something's trying to take over or destroy something else. Gangrel trying to destroy Ylisse. Walhart trying to conquer the continent. Grima trying to destroy the world. Nohr was just more of the same. An insane man, working under an insane dragon, trying to kill everything.

Except here's the kicker; I helped. What happened in Hoshido was nothing short of a horror story. Garon had the Army kill or burn everything we came across. Leveling buildings, tearing apart roads, torching crop fields. All the Hoshidans either ran or got killed. Meanwhile I was just watching it all unfold, keeping up a smile next to Camilla and Beruka.

It's hard to think that I was the bad guy. Sure, I didn't kill anyone. But I lit more than a few houses on fire. Broke plenty things, hurt plenty of people. When I finally ran into Inigo and Owain again, none of us even spoke. We all felt guilty, it wasn't what we'd come there to do. Our job was to save Corrin and help Anakos. Not turn into the people we fought back home.

And now we're back, and nothing's changed. The risen are still wandering around, innocent people are still dying, someone's trying to take over the world _again,_ and my father's sacrifice meant nothing at all. It's as if everyone reversed all the work we did just to make us play through the script all over again. All I wanted was a safe place to raise a family. Maybe down the line, Subaki and I could've had another kid. No deeprealms, no child soldiering. Someone in my family could finally have a peaceful life.

But no, it's all thrown in the wind now. And I'm stuck playing the same roles I always have been. Nothing's changed. _I_ haven't changed.

The beam of wood creaks loudly as Blanche sits herself down next to me. Both of my eyes shoot open and focus on her at once. "So you're willing to send me down river for working for Walhart, yet it appears you've done plenty you are not proud of yourself." She ponders out loud, fiddling with her thumbs.

"I didn't start this little feud." I counter on instinct, narrowing my gaze.

"No, but you've helped keep it going." She answers calmly, before sighing. "We can't keep going back and forth like this. One of us is going to drive the other insane."

"We haven't already?" I joke, much to the dismay of my audience.

"Would you _please_ stop? I am trying to be sincere." She pleads, frowning at me in disappointment. I decide to clam my mouth shut and let her go on. "We need to work together, we both have the same goals and… similar morals. And similar mistakes."

"An olive branch? Where'd this come from?" I ask incredually.

"Thank Father Jules. He advised that I started treating you with more respect." Blanche laughs at the mention of the old man. She's smiling again. A real one, not the kind she usually puts on for pleasantries.

So I've got the curate to thank for this sudden shift in emotions. Wonderful. "You and him seem pretty close. There a story with that?"

"He um… he basically raised Cherche and myself." She explained, nervously rubbing the back of her neck. "Both of our parents sent us off to be clerics. She left the clergy when she became eighteen, while I remained a woman of the cloth."

"Wow. Your parents dumped you both off like that?"

She shakes her head so hard I'm worried it's gonna fly off. "No, no. They visited us often. Our family is just very religious. My mother was a Cleric, Cherche's father was a Monk. We were merely following the footsteps of those who came before. Very much like your sister and your own parents."

"Hrm. Fine." I think about the idea. Burying the hatchet is the smartest play. Even if neither of us trust one another, being openly hostile is fruitless. I want to hate her, I've got every reason to. From the bigotry to the insults to the _choking me out_. No one could blame me. But… be the better person. Be the person Mother would want you to be. "So we make nice and act chummy now?"

"We start over and give one another a second chance." She amends, extending a hand over to me. Just like how Jules did back in the chapel.

I shake it in acceptance. Completely expect this agreement to crash and burn within a few days, but I'm not going to be the person to stop it from working. If I really want to be a better person, I need to start now.

After that we give the town another quick search to confirm our initial discovery. From there we make our way back to the horses and ride back out following the mass of tracks. The footprints are moving off the road at this point, almost the entire settlement seems to have come along for the rest of the march. You'd think they'd've gone north towards the capitol. Maybe they don't feel safe going on the roads alone anymore, not that I could blame them.

* * *

Another long ride passes until we reach the new camp. The sun's gone past it's zenith, we're well into the afternoon as we pass the perimeter guards. A few of them throw a salute Blanche's way and a nod towards mine. I recognise a few of them from the formation back in the city. Subaki's already gotten to work without me, at least they're wearing their uniforms on the right way.

Once we reach the stables, I leave Blanche behind and peel my way through the camp. It's been days since I've seen any of my family, and I need to make sure they're all intact. Subaki's probably off drilling some of the recruits, so looking for him's a bad idea right now. Morgan's most likely drafting plans in whatever command tent she has set up, and bothering her during her 'brainstorming sessions' is not a mistake I'm going to make again. Still have the bald-spot on my head from the last time.

That leaves my daughter. And I know where she's going to be.

Finding the camp armory was pretty easy, it's usually one of the center tents away from the border. Along the way I end up passing quite a few other tents filled to the brim with refugees from Geneve. Men, women and children all covered in soot and scorch marks. They look at the Ylissean brand on my sleeve with trepidation, wary at the sight of a foreigner so close. Still, there's a lot of them. Means that not many people died in the raid. Silver linings, Severa. Silver linings.

Once I get to my destination, I key into the sound of a conversation going on between a group of three. Two men who I don't know, and a girl that's distinctively Caeldori. It seems rather ragged, but present.

"Here's the plan for the Armory's layout. I trust you two can follow it well?" Caeldori begins. She sounds so different whenever she's commanding people. Tort and gruff, no nonsense. Wonder where she got that from.

"Of course milady. We were both carpenters in Geneve, y'know!" One of the men answers. Lower voice, sounds like someone who smokes pretty often.

"We know our way around an axe and a hammer. But these plans are pretty unique. Are they foreign?" This one sounds similar, but younger. Less scratchy as well.

"It's a prototype I used long ago. I've adapted it and improved it to fit the Army's standards." Caeldori swiftly clarifies. "Regardless, I need this building erected by noon's time two days from now. You're both free to recruit whomever you deem fit. Pay is not an issue."

"Don't worry, we can get this fixed up in half that time. Right brother?"

"Right Pierre." The next voice answers pridefully.

"Excellent. I'll inspect your progress at this time tomorrow. You're both dismissed."

I duck behind the flap of the tent as the two make their way past, not wanting to be given away as I curve my head around to see inside after they've both fully left the area. To my relief, Caeldori doesn't seem injured at all. Her armor's still intact, and by the looks of things she's shined it again recently. Right now she's just bent over a table, quill in hand as she scribbles messages wildly across multiple pieces of parchment. All of the walls in the tent are filled with weapon racks, most of them hastily set up but the blades themselves seem straightened out. Almost most likely her handiwork.

So I pace my way inside, sliding myself behind the junior officer and peering over her shoulder. The charts she's working with are almost beyond me, but I can tell they're even more building plans. Since when did my little girl turn into an architect? One looks like a sentry tower, another seems to be a layout for the mess hall. The final one is probably going to be a map of the whole base she has imagined up.

As I move away from her to an empty spot in the weapon racks, she speaks. "Do you need something? The armory's closed for maintenance." Caeldori calls to me, and I can sense the fatigue in her voice. Knowing her, she probably hasn't slept since everyone arrived here.

I remove my sword and shield from my body, setting them down onto the rack next to Caeldori's naginata. It's also sparkling clean, just like everything else. "A hug from my daughter would be a good start." I reply, dusting some soot off of the my buckler.

Before I even turn around, I get what I ask for. The full force of the sky knight hitting my back and wrapping me up in her arms. Almost lose my balance too, if I didn't grab onto the wooden stand and keep myself still. "Hey, easy!" I manage out between laughter. "I don't want to ruin all the work you did here by falling over!"

Her grip loosens, but she doesn't let me go fully. I manage to turn myself around and return the hug, brushing my lips against her main of red hair and bringing her closer now that I was stable. "I'm glad you're safe Caeldori. When I saw the town I almost had a panic attack."

"How do you think we felt when Virion told us you weren't coming back on time?" Caeldori replies, her voice cracking as she buries her face deep into my stomach. "After that letter you didn't send anything! For all we knew another group of those _**things**_ could have eaten you or something!"

"Risen don't eat people, sweetheart." I chirp, combing her hair with my hand very slowly. She always puts so much effort into her look, another habit she picked up from me. But there's a few imperfections on closer inspection. A few knots are forming, and the ends are becoming frayed. "Did you sleep at all when I was gone?"

I swear I can feel the heat come into her cheeks as she blushes, even if I can't see her face. "Does sleeping on Hinoka's back count?"

Gotta remind myself that she's talking about her pegasus and not the person. Would rather not have that image floating around in my head much longer. "No. Not even close. And when was the last time you ate?"

"I had a ration bar this morning!" She answers, popping up out of our embrace and staring upwards at me. She's lying and she knows I can tell, just by how she's shrinking away. "...Yesterday morning." She corrects. I fold my arms over my chest and she finally breaks. "Two nights ago." She finally admits. "I've been busy she exclaims, counting off her duties with a hand. "I've organized the refugees, stocked the food stores, helped build the stables, drawn up rosters for the new companies and updated the plans for my armory!"

"All in two days. I'd be impressed if I was anyone who wasn't your mother." It's a miracle she's even standing at this point, let alone working. I need to remember to give Subaki and Morgan a piece of my mind for letting her keep going on for this long without checking in. "We've been over this Caeldori. Overworking yourself will only make you work worse over time."

"But I'm fine! Really, I feel great!" She keeps insisting.

"Oh really?" She nods again, hopping up on both feet twice to show her energy. Of course what she also reveals is the strain it takes her to even bend her knees the entire way. Any more like this and she'll collapse. So I shake my head and take her by the arm, guiding her out of the tent. "Come on, you're showing me where my tent is."

"You don't want to find Father? Or Aunt Morgan?" I hear her call, slipping out of my grasp and matching my pace as we walk down the lanes between the canvas tarps.

Another shake of the head. "Both of them are busy and I'm bushed. We spent a whole day riding here."

"Weren't you just chastising me for not sleeping well?" Questions, questions, always questions with hers.

"Do as I say, not as I do." I answer, smirking down at the redhead as she pouts and looks away from me. "I'm allowed to be a hypocrite sometimes."

"You're a hypocrite all the time." Oh great, this is going to turn into another argument. "Honestly, would it hurt to follow your own advice once in a while?"

"Don't take that tone with me, Caeldori." I can hear my own voice become stern as I lift a finger up. "I tell you what I do for a reason. And I'm usually right."

"No you aren't. You're as reliable as a coin flip!" She exclaims, gesturing in front of her as she looks forward again. "One moment you say the right thing, the other you say the wrong thing. Sometimes we take the right course of action, other times we're stuck in a mess."

A few heads are turning now to stare over at our little exhibition, but I don't think either of us cares to do anything about it. I plant my feet in the ground and lift my arm up, Caeldori runs into it with an audible grunt. "Last I checked it was a group decision for us to stay in Roseanne. Unless I'm suddenly imagining that discussion we had back in Nellis."

"No, that was Father and I trying to do the right thing and both of us having to convince you to follow through. _You_ wanted to run off to the Valmese Harbor." Another few heads are looking now. Again my arms go over my chest as she stares up at me in contempt.

" _I_ wanted to avoid putting us all in the line of fire. If we'd gone with my plan, we'd already be two weeks at sea!" This is completely ridiculous. Why can't I ever just have a half-decent conversation with this girl without it turning into a debate?

"Oh, so it isn't much of a 'group decision' now is it?" She grumbles. If looks could kill, I'd be dead where I stand. Both of her eyes are boring into me. Red, just like Subaki's. Same with her hair. Same with her outfit. Same with her fighting style. The only thing my kid's inherited from me is my temper, smart-arse attitude and stubbornness.

I turn my head at the small crowd looking on, grinding my teeth together as they don't seem to budge. Lavender soldier uniforms with the flower of Roseanne clear on their sleeves. Actual soldiers would know better than to keep watching, so they're _also_ probably new recruits.

Guess it's time to finally pull rank. " **What are you monkeys looking at!?"** I bark out, snapping them all to attention. Caeldori turns faces the group as well, red in the face. Either she's angry or embarrassed, I'm gonna guess both. " **Does this look like some kind of stage-play?! Go do something useful and stop standing around like a bunch of cockatoos!"**

The five of them scatter like mice under a flame with that, almost falling over one another as they disappear into the rows and ranks of tent that surround us. Breath in, breath out. Try to relax, focus on the main problem. "Why do I have the feeling this isn't about coming to Roseanne at all?"

"No idea what you're talking about." She's a horrible liar. I guess that's another thing she got from me.

We're the only people around now. At least that's what it sounds like, no footsteps or grumbling. The lights behind the cloth aren't revealing any shadows cast against them. Doubt anyone's hiding, or stupid enough to try. So I may as well go at this whole hog.

"Do you think I'm a moron?" I start, placing my hand squarely on my hip.

"Sometimes, yes. I do." Caeldori answers candidly, matching my pose in sync. Cute. Bit weird but, cute.

"Mmhm. Was I being a moron in the Armory?" A plan starts to form in my head

"I know my limits, Captain." Titles. She knows I hate titles. Only stuffy and pompous people care about titles.

"Don't dodge the question then, Lieutenant. Answer it." I reply, playing tit for tat.

"No."

Good,time to switch the subject back to the real question. "Was I wrong about you being angry about something else?"

"No." Caeldori has to force herself to admit that. Still she's giving me the same smoldering glare I used to give her Grandmother.

Progress is progress though, let's see how far this can be taken. "Are you ever going to talk to me about it, or are we going to keep being passive aggressive with each other?" She doesn't answer, my eyes roll out of instinct. Please tell me I wasn't this much of a brat when I was her age. "For Gods' sake Caeldori, what do you want from me?"

"To stop treating me like a child!" She explodes, throwing both of her hands over her head at once. "You know I'm plenty capable! You're barely even older than me, what makes you think you can always tell me what to do?!"

Again I can feel my eyes roll. This is the most cliched argument I think we could be having, am I really trying to calm down a rebellious teenager? "I've also been through more than you, seen more than you, done more than you, and **know better than you**."

Caeldori scoffs, both her hands resting on her waist now as she cocks her hips. "I joined you in Queen Corrin's Army when I was _sixteen_ , I've started younger than most!"

"And I had to go into my first battlefield when I was thirteen, and unlike _you_ I didn't have my p-" I stop, looking around as it finally dawns on me why she didn't call me her mother out here. "I didn't have anyone to look after me."

"I did plenty fine on my own without either of you looking after me before. You both abandoned me in the deeprealms for years! I learned to take care of myself without relying on anyone else!" She shoots back at me, this whole situation is a far cry from Nellis. Back then she said it was her dream to be with Subaki and I, now she's trying to say she doesn't need either of us. Trying to assert her self-reliance, not like that was ever even the issue to begin with.

A million retorts run through my head, two ending up as my final answers. I could tell her to try going solo and see where that would take her. That'd end the conversation there, make her storm off, probably run off on Hinoka for a good while and get her hurt in more ways than one. Even with my kid I default to being nasty… what is wrong with me lately? Just explain your thoughts, Severa. Let her understand, don't expect her to know by default. "Caeldori, why do you think I tell you these things?"

"This is where you tell me it's because you care, right? I get it." She answers dismissively, looking off in the opposite direction. Probably also trying to see if we have more unwanted members of the peanut gallery.

"No." I pause for a beat, then correct myself. "Well, yes. But that isn't the main reason."

She looks at me expectantly. Not like the girl I used to know, hovering at my every move to watch and learn. But like a customer at a tavern, demanding the barkeep hand her over the order she made an hour ago. "Then what is it?"

She's all grown up now, she _doesn't_ need me to do things for her. But I still needed my Mother when I came back, just not how I expected. I need to put that into words once and for all.

"Because I've made more mistakes than anyone else I've ever known. I've been dragged through fight after fight after fight. Nearly been killed Gods knows how many times and I've killed Gods knows how many people. Naga knows I'm not proud of either of those things at all."

I seem to finally have her attention with that point, her disposition breaking as I give her the details. For the longest time I avoided telling Subaki about my past to avoid burdening him, but I swore that I'd never tell Caeldori. What I had to go through, she'll never experience. Either directly or from my stories, I don't care. "I want you to not repeat my failures. I want you to be a better person than I am. Yeah, I get it. I wasn't there for you at the start. And I hate myself for that. I always will. But I'm not going to let that stop me from doing what I can now. Alright?"

Dare I say I've actually stunned her quiet for a bit. Her eyes go up and down my form, focusing on my outfit. Whatever she was expecting, I guess a full blown spiel like that wasn't it. "...You need that washed." Caeldori says after a while, not able to lift her eyes above my collar.

"And I'm sure you'll do it for me even if I tell you not to." I answer, chuckling a bit. "But what I need now is you understand."

"I… yeah. I do." She admits. "I think that was the first time you ever admitted you were bad at something."

"Don't get used to it, being bad isn't a status quo I keep." I answer, looking back down the path of the camp. Gods this place is a maze, I need to make sure to make a map so I don't end up getting lost. "Let's finish this at my quarters then, OK?"

"Um… OK. OK." Caeldori answers, shuffling off with her head down towards the Ylissean tents. Small progress I guess. But it's better than nothing at all.


	19. C-15: Clerical Error

When we reached my tent, Subaki was waiting for us. After a quick embrace, and a gagging sound from Caeldori, he told us that we'd been called over to the Army's war room. That was in when it was still afternoon.

Now it's well past dusk, and I can _still_ hear four voices bickering back and forth. Over the course of what was once a civil conversation, it devolved into a non-stop yelling match split between two sides. Virion and Cherche, planning to take a battalion of soldiers forward and scour the entire border until every risen and Valentian soldier was dealt with. Morgan and Blanche, saying that it would be an immense waste of resources and a reckless move to put the two leaders of the nation at risk.

Meanwhile Subaki, Caeldori and I are outside, trying to get a head on what to do next. Subaki's pacing back and forth in front of the flap of the war room, marching like a toy soldier from Yuletide. Caeldori's managed to bait me into a game of War, no idea where she got the deck of cards. The argument's a good backdrop to the battle of luck we're having, she's up ten cards. That smug grin she has is driving me up the wall… it's not like this game even takes any brains to win.

The argument peaks out for a moment as I can hear Cherche screech something at her commanders, something about letting Minerva use them as a chew toy I think. Subaki jumps away from the door, staring at it fearfully before looking over his shoulder at the two of us. "When do you think they will let us inside?" He asks as I hear Blanche say she'll make a purse out of the Duchess' wyvern.

"When they either calm down or kill each other." I grumble back, slapping another card down as Caeldori sweeps the stack back into her hand once more. Why am I even still playing this? I hate card games. I barely even like board games, and at least those actually mean something to win or lose. "If you wanna dive into the lion's den, feel free wonder boy."

Something inside splinters, and we all tense up. "I enjoy keeping my limbs attached…" He affirms, going back to his paces afterwards. It doesn't sound like the debate is going to end anytime soon anyway, so waiting for them to tire each other out is for the best.

"Are you finally going to concede, Mother?" Caeldori asks innocently, eyelashes fluttering as her gaze focuses upon the remaining five cards in my hand. She's going to win, at this point she's just playing with her food.

"Not in my vocabulary." I answer, looking over my cards and picking one out. "What was the first rule we taught you?" I ask, placing another card down on the table.

"Quitting is failing. Failing isn't an option." She replies back, placing one of her own cards down. Higher suit, she takes this hand too.

"And if you're losing?" I press, putting another card down.

"Keep going until _they_ start losing." Another one of her hand comes down, another round won by her insane luck.

"And if you lose?" I put a card down, a six. She places a six. I place a jack, she places a jack. I put down a two…

Caeldori places down an ace, and cackles while she finally cleans me out entirely and claims victory.

"You only lose when you give up." She flashes a smile at me, and I roll my eyes.

"Good to know she listened to us back then more than she does now." Subaki comments, pulling up a chair and finally joining us at the table. At this point the world around us just morphs into white noise, the three of us focusing on one another. Caeldori's shuffling the deck, undoubtedly calling for a double or nothing. I'm just shifting my eyes between the both of them, wondering how we should move forwards.

Gerome and Cynthia's condition meant we had a big problem on our hands. Enemies patrolling the border meant enemies scouting out forts and outposts. For all we know they could start just sending small teams into the area, causing a mess and hurting Gods knows how many people. Apparently they already tried it once, and that's only the event we know about.

"You're thinking we need to strike." Subaki reads me like a book, scratching his forehead in thought. His pruned brow was rippled in thought as he mulled over the same information I was.

"I'm thinking we need to strike." I repeat. "Hit whatever they have in the woods, fast and hard. Then keep pushing until we get to their staging ground."

"I took stock of the supplies we have on station, we aren't prepared for an extended campaign Mother." Caeldori points out, all the while Subaki leans back in his seat. He's staring at me now, sizing me up the same way he did when we first met one another.

"That isn't what she means. You want to cut all the way to Nellis, don't you?" The tone in his voice bleeds caution. The plan was to just hold the line and break each wave of attacks. It was a safe plan, it was the expected plan. It was _Morgan's_ plan, and that alone should make me feel comfortable with going along with it.

Still… I don't like sitting around doing nothing.

"Right now I wanna go find whoever hurt my friends." I start to drum my fingers against both armrests. Come on, when are they going to stop fighting so we can actually do something about this mess?

"How do you even know the Duke's son and his wife? Are they from your original group?" Caeldori questioned, opting to put the deck squarely in the center of the table instead of dealing for another round. Suppose she's more interested in another one of my stories than playing card.

I nod, sitting back up in my chair and snatching the deck into my grasp. May as well shuffle and talk so I can stay distracted from my boredom. "Believe it or not, I never thought those two would get along. Cynthia's annoyingly happy all the time, and Gerome's annoyingly depressing. One rides a Pegasus, the other rides a wyvern. I guess they cancel each other out?"

"Like how father cancels out your yelling?" Caeldori teases with a grin, which only seems to grow as I stare her down while my hands keep moving with the deck. Subaki's throws his head back and laughs, as I flick my eyes over the both of them.

"Something like that." He confirms, beaming at me with a disarming smile. I drop the glare and return to focusing in the cards in my hand.

"It doesn't feel right." I finally admit, voice becoming small. I can hear my family tense up in their chairs as my tone gets low. "We fight through the end of the world, and now they might end up dying because of another stupid war."

"They'll be fine, Selena." I hear Subaki call. "The best healers in the region are at the castle, soon they'll be back up and fighting."

"And we'll be here keeping them all safe in the meantime!" Caeldori exclaims, I can almost imagine her puffing her chest out. That girl… I don't know how I raised a woman to be a better person than I am, but I'm glad I did.

"You sound like your Aunt. Then again, you two are like twins at this point." I lift my gaze to see my daughter shrink back down, edging away from a possible confrontation. It's true, she's been spending a lot more time with Morgan than with me. Can't help but feel like I did something wrong, somewhere. Maybe I'm just overthinking things, though. She just met the first member of her extended family in this world, it makes sense that she'd spend time with them…

I snap back to reality when I hear something large in the other room smash apart. All three of us grab for our sheathed weapons and rise to our feet, right before the yelling continues just the same as before.

"Is this normal in your world?" Subaki questions, edging closer to the door and preparing to open it. Caeldori and I follow behind him, the both of us using him somewhat like a shield for any thrown objects that might come our way.

"You get used to it, flyboy." I give him a nudge forwards, and he peels the door open. Quickly we file into the room… well, what's left of the room.

I dunno what I expected to see, but the two axes in the middle of a split table wasn't it. Wood and tapestry from the now derelict piece of furniture were strewn all over the room, as if someone had lobbed a firebomb into the center of it all. Do I even wanna find out what lead to this monstrosity…? No, no I don't.

The four of them have their heads shoved so far up their arses that they didn't even notice us come inside. Still just wrapped up in their own world, I wouldn't be surprised if they forgot what they were even fighting about. Subaki shakes his head and lets loose a sharp whistle, prompting them all to face us.

"So." Subaki claps his hands together, looking to the destruction about him with a sense of horror and amusement. He spoke to no one in particular, his gaze bouncing from person to person. Virion rubbed the back of his neck nervously, eying the damage done to his planning table. Morgan grabbed a chair that was knocked over, set it back up, and sat down. Blanche and Cherche both looked liable to murder the red-headed man on the spot, and then I noticed that both were lacking their usual weapons. Guess that explains the table.

"I suppose we'll clean this up first, then?" He finishes. I just shook my head covered my mouth, trying not to laugh.

* * *

"So Tiki knows then?" Morgan questions me as we're sitting in one of the command tents. The meeting was pretty short after Subaki's intervention. Both sides agreed to continue the debate tomorrow, after the scouts returned. So we went to the officer's section of the camp, and she showed me the rag-tag office that was set up for me. Subaki had the other half, the two rooms split by a patchwork tarp.

I nod, looking at the brown mush on my plate. Both of us are poking away at the meatloaf… thing that the cook put on our platters. Whatever the hell he made this from, I don't think it's supposed to be eaten. "She visited the Curate, and left him the mask. I take it Blanche gave it to you?"

Morgan nods, her own plate resting on her lap as she brought her feet onto my desk. I shoot her a glare she felt happy to ignore, rummaging through her satchel. "Already running experiments on it. Have a book of elder magic spells Tharja gave me for my twentieth birthday. You should actu-"

"Keep that stuff away from me." I cut her off, looking back to the brown-ish blob as I poke it with my fork. "You handle magic, I handle stabbing people. Alright?"

I can see her eyes roll from the corner of my vision. "Dark magic's always freaked you out. Even when we were kids you hated the stuff."

I snort, finally taking a piece of the sludge into my mouth. Actually tastes a lot better than it looks. I swallow and grab another piece before continuing. "Because, Morgan. Dark magic, plus our heritage, usually means bad things happening."

"Nothing's bad happened to me!" She protests.

"Yet."

"Ugh…" She groans, leaning her chair back. "You sound like Brady."

"Maybe you should listen to him more then." I point my for at her, wagging it back and forth. "His Dad's a better mage than you anyway, and Ricken hates elder tomes more than I do."

That gets her to stop slouching. She almost knocks her plate off of her lap as she shoots back up. "Hey, I resent that! I'm a jack of all trades! You think any of the other Shepherds can sling spells, fight with a lance _and_ sword, plus come up with battle plans?"

"Jack of all trades means you're a master of none, sis." I point out. "You aren't the best mage, that's Laurent. You aren't the best swordswoman, that's me." She cocks a brow at me, going back to rocking her chair with her feet on my desk. "Fine, that's Lucina." I admit. "You aren't the best with a lance, that's Kjelle by a mile. You aren't even the best flier, that's a tie between Cynthia and Gerome."

She stares at me for a moment, probably wishing she could zap me to ash with her mind. Too bad I'm too hungry to care. "Do you just… _love_ making me feel inadequate? I swear you enjoy this more than you should."

"I'm your older sister, it's my job to keep you humble." This stuff's actually really good, maybe I should ask for seconds. "Making your life harder's just a perk."

"Lovely." She grumbles, watching me start to actually chow down on the food. The way she's looking at me, it's like I'm eating a rotting carcass. "You uh… you know this stuff smells like Owain when he forgets to shower, right?"

I gag at the memory, but finish off my plate rather quickly. Even look over to the one that Morgan still has, and she hands it over without any fuss. Knowing her she has a stockpile of sweets or something in her tent anyway.

"Do you even know where Owain and Inigo are?" She asks me, pulling out a bag of something from her hip and popping it open. "You said you went off with them."

"And I was supposed to come back with them too." I put my newly acquired meal down, resting my elbows on the desk and propping my head on top. "They disappeared."

"What, as in they abandoned you?"

"As in they vanished." I grumble. My mood goes into the doldrums as I think back to my two missing friends and their families. Where they went, how they are. Did they end up in a different part of the world, maybe? The last time I crossed time and space, we were thrown all over.

"...Then we need to find them." Morgan answers, her eyes twinkling at the idea of a new adventure. "Once we're done here, we gonna find out where they are."

"We don't have a clue where they are." I point out. "We have no idea where to start."

"Since when has that stopped us before? We jumped through a wormhole in time for crying out loud!"

"Pipe down, will ya?" I growl out. "Remember, we aren't supposed to talk about that."

"Oh come on, no one can hear us." Morgan dismisses as she waves her hands.

"I'm not taking the risk." I finish, not letting her play this off like a joke.

"Fine, fine." She lowers the tone of her voice to a more drowned level, pausing her rocking once more. "...So, Owain and Inigo. Did they change any?"

I swear, every time we have a moment alone she keeps asking me about what happened. I'm not surprised, but there's a lot I also don't want to remember. "I told you, Owain's a mage now and Inigo's fighting the same as his father."

"Not what I meant. I meant their personality. You sure changed plenty."

"Really now? How."

"You're a lot less brash. Sure, you've still got a fuse shorter than bobby pin and a knife for a tongue, but you actually think before you act." I think back to the several explosions I've had since I came here. "Well, usually." She corrects, probably remembering the spat I had in Viron Keep.

"Mmhm." I answer, grabbing the meatloaf once more and scooping up another fork full.

"You're uh… nicer, than before." She observed. "When I saw you again when we came here, you were a lot more brutal around everyone. Mom, Dad, Lucy, Cynthia, all of our other friends, _other people_?"

"Guess I earned that ice queen nickname." I joke, but that just sparks another revelation from Morgan.

"And that's another thing!" My sister points out. "You never let anyone criticize you before! If anyone ever said anything bad about you, you'd either storm off or have a breakdown!"

"Only people I let criticize me are you and Subaki." I wince at her assessment, thinking back. Was I… really that bad of a person? I mean, sure, I was usually happy to tear someone a new arsehole. But only if they deserved it. Right?

"Either way-" She calms herself down. "-you just seem more mature is all!"

"I had a kid and mellowed out, like you wanted." I rebuke, using her words from that cafe a while ago. "I'm just trying to be a good role-model, Morg. Like Dad was for you."

"And Mom was for you?" She follows up.

I shrug, mulling that phrase over in my head. "...Maybe. Sometimes I wonder if she'd really be happy with how I turned out."

"What?" She asks incredulously, leaning forward and shaking her head in denial. "Hey, come on! You know Mom's happy with how you are. You and her were basically inseparable after we finally defeated Grima. She even taught you how to ride a Pegasus again!"

"I dunno." I admit, setting the empty plate down and thinking back, before shaking the thoughts out of my head. "Anyway, yeah. They changed a bit. Owain's gotten even more dramatic and Inigo's… well, he _was_ happier for a while. Then we decided to come back and things got… complex, with his family."

I could tell she wanted to know more, her eyes were wide with saucers in anticipation. But I couldn't bring myself to mention it. What happened before we left was nothing short of a mess, one I'm not revisiting now. "But yeah, they both got hitched. They're Dads now too, so, take that how you will."

Morgan clearly wasn't happy that I dodged the subject, but she let it drop. For now, at least. Instead she just went along with my shift in the conversation, digging through a satchel she brought along and pulling out a comically thick stack of papers, barely bound together with a tie of string. "Well I'm looking forward to it. Their kids are probably gonna be a blast to mess with."

As she says that, she places the stack of papers on my desk. I grab it and drag it over, flipping through the pieces and papers. Rosters, stocks, requisition papers, training schedules, contracts, payment billets… "You want me to read over all of this?"

"And fill out what you need, yeah." Morgan confirmed, standing up to her feet. "I already made Caeldori your second, but she can't do all the work."

"She's gonna try." I tell her. Even if I do this myself, she'll probably intercept it and correct it herself before it reaches Morgan.

"Well, you're gonna need to work fast. I need that all done soon." Morgan clarifies, her demeanor turning oddly neutral. Her mood shifts, and she's acting like someone who's secretly grinning on the inside. "As in tomorrow. Afternoon. Before the next command meeting."

My eyes go wide as I look back to her, then the stack in my hands, then to her again. This pile feels as heavy as a boulder, and half as tall. It'll take me all night before I'm even done reading this, let alone filling out every log and chart. "This has to be one of your pranks."

"Nope." She answers, her tone turning smug. "Everyone else has had a few days to do this, but you weren't here soooooo…"

"B-but-" I stammer setting the stack down and standing up. I round the table, arms waving around. "I was busy! Fighting things! Finding out things! You can't do this! There's gotta be someone else who can handle this!"

She sucks in a breath, wincing at me like I'm a wounded deer. "Ahhh, nope. Caeldori might be able to help, if you get her off her other duties. But everyone else is occupied! Including your hubby, so don't try."

This can't be happening. I can't be forced to become some kind of secretary! I'm a soldier! I fight things, go into epic battles, have songs and sonnets written about my great deeds! I don't sit at a desk and do _paperwork!_

"Morgan." I grab her shoulders, looking into her eyes. Honestly I'm about to go down on both knees and beg. "Please. _Please._ There's gotta be someone else. H-how about you! You've got free time, right!? I'll pay you back, I swear! Next town we're in, I'll take you to whatever restaurant you want! I'll empty out the bookstore and get you every tactical book they have!"

She shakes her head, red fluffy bangs bouncing up and down. The corner of her mouth is starting to betray a smile. "Nope. I'm helping train the new pegasus knights Virion's recruited. Sorry."

"Come _on!_ " I plead desperately, shaking her once. "Please! Do it for your big sister! You know I'm good for it."

She shakes her head again, tutting at me as she shrugs my hands off. "Sorry, Sev. As the Commander, you know I can't make exceptions for anyone. Family included!"

That's when the grin finally breaks out. She planned this from the beginning. One last prank to give me hell before the fighting starts. Or, knowing my luck, the first in a series of jokes involving her flexing her newfound authority on me. And I can't do anything about it except run, which she _knows_ I won't do.

"Heeeey, don't worry about it!" She claps my shoulder and gives me a thumbs up. "You'll do fine! You're the best at everything, remember!" When I just stare blankly back at her, hoping for some kind of mercy to come from all of this. But I'm given nothing, all I see is that sadistic twinkle in her eye as she slips past me. "Anyway, I've gotta go! Girl's gotta get her beauty sleep!" She calls over as I hear her go through the flap of the tent.

Once she's out, I just collapse into a heap on the grassy floor.

Naga, save me. Please…

* * *

"-tain? Is sh-" I hear something say near me. It's distant and slurred, but sounds familiar. Like a younger boy. Everything around me's dark though. Am I in a cave? But, I was in my tent… well, it's peaceful I guess. Nothing really but silence, and I feel like I'm floating. Hrng...

"Sha-... -ke up." I hear next. Girl, _definitely_ know her. But… what. Someone's touching me. Why's the world rattling…? Ugh, what a nuisance. Just leave me alo-

" **HEY, CAP! WAKE UP!"** The girl screams into my right ear, and my eyes shoot open as I fly to the right. Again I'm a mess on the floor, this time resting on my side as I clutch my head from the ringing.

I blink a few times as light finally comes in and reveals the world around me. I _am_ still in my tent, and judging from my position, I was asleep in my now knocked over chair. I can see a man poking his head through the dividing flap, Subaki's face creased with concern as three others stand over me.

One's Caeldori, mirroring her father's expression as she moves to try and help me back up. The other's the Roseanne soldier from a long while ago, Gwen. She's yucking it up non stop, doubled over at my misfortune. If I wasn't being held onto I'd strangle her with my bare hands. Finally, Percy. One hand rubbing his neck as he laughs nervously, the other clutching a healing rod.

"I thought you said you were going to sleep in your cot…" I hear Caeldori ask in resignation. Did I say that? I probably did, then realized I wouldn't have time to do that and finish all the work my new 'Boss' dumped on me. She takes me back over to my desk, setting my chair straight and helping me back down into it.

Gwen's still laughing like a madwoman, much to my dismay. Percy's backing away from her slowly, I think he can tell I'm having murderous thoughts just by how my face feels like it's twisting. Meanwhile I take a look at my desk. Three candles, all burned to the end of their wick. A pot of ink that's almost been completely used up, with a feather resting in it calmly. The papers are divided into two stacks now, if I recall the larger one is what's been finished. Still so much left to do…

"Anyway, Captain." I hear Caeldori say as Subaki's head disappears back behind the cloth. My eyes aim back at our two guests, and the new table in the corner of the room. When did that get there? "I brought these two as soon as they were free, as you requested."

"Eh?" I ask the space around me, prompting my girl to sigh. Gwen finally stops laughing, though she isn't losing that smug smile of hers. That's when the gears in my head start working again, and I recall the last request I gave Caeldori before I blanked out. "Riiiiiiight, now I remember."

I beckon the two closer, then point at the space in front of my table. They both move up and shift into a stance resembling attention, looking at me in expectation. After that I pull the top paper from my completed pile and place it in the middle, pointing at it. Both look down, seeing that it's a roster with their names hastily written down.

"Er… Miss Severa? What's this?" Percy asks, grabbing the thing and bringing it up for a closer look as he adjusts his glasses.

"The company command roster. You both work for me now." I inform them, before looking over my shoulder. "You did get Blanche to sign that other sheet, right?"

Caeldori nods, slipping the order out and handing it over to me. I look it over and see the Cleric's fresh signature on it. I cough once into a fist, before reading the statement scrawled at the top to my new peons. "By order of Blanche de Navarre, Brigadier of Roseanne, Priestess of the Church of Valm, blah blah blah blah…" I skip over the rest of the filler and just get to the point. "...The transfer of Corporal Gwendolyn Mire and Junior Priest Percival LeRoux has been approved. Both are to report to the commander of the One-hundred and Eighth Independent Light Militia Company. As so it is decreed." I then offer it to the two. This time Gwen's the one to take it in hand.

"From today onwards, you both take your marching orders from me and my Lieutenant." I jut my thumb over to Caeldori as she stands at my flank, watching Gwen's smirk maintain as she receives the news. Percy just keeps staring at the roster, frozen in shock. "No one else. Not any of the other Ylissean officers. Not any of the Majors or Colonels from Roseanne. Only us, the Brigadier and Commander Volkner."

Percy remains rigid still, so I stand up a bit and snap my fingers in his face. The boy gasps, but finally gets a hold of himself. Handing the paper back to Caeldori and clutching his heal staff close. "You're both my new staff officers." I sit myself back down, bouncing my eyes between the two before settling on the kid. "Percy, you're acting surgeon. All the new priests and clerics who join up, you organize them."

The spectacle wearing boy bobs his head up and down, getting the message. My eyes then shift over to Gwen, narrowing slightly. "You're the company Sergeant Major. You help me drill everyone who transfers here, and you enforce the rules. Anyone does anything stupid, feel free to break something that doesn't take them off the battlefield. Got it?"

"Crystal." She answers gleefully, like I just gave her the keys to a candy store.

"Good, questions?" I ask, and my new priest tentatively lifts his hand.

"When do we start?"

"Now." I grab the unfinished paperwork to my side and divide it into halves, one being personnel files and the other being medical requisition forms. Then slide both to their new owner, respectively. "Fill these out by quarter set today, hand them off to Lieutenant Takeda." I again gesture to Caeldori, who clicks her heels next to me. "Next question."

Gwen this time, rubbing her hands together as her eyes gleam. "So, when do our new ranks kick in. And the pay bonus! We do get a pay bonus, right?"

Interesting priorities, I guess. My eyes roll out of reflex. "Your paygrades'll be fixed by the next period. I'm not the army's comptroller, so bug him if something goes wrong." I answer, then move to the next point. "Your new ranks kick in now. Both of you can start moving your stuff into the tent across from this one."

"I've already requisitioned you both new uniforms, which are in said tent. Along with work tables, supplies and cots." Caeldori chirped. I know I didn't ask her to do any of that, but I'm glad she did it anyway.

Grunting in approval, I move on. "Last question, you both have work to do."

Percy speaks up again, and finally asks the question we've all been waiting for. "Um… not to sound ungrateful Miss Severa-" He gulps once more, shifting his feet with stress. "-a-and I'm not ungrateful, really! This is an amazing opportunity and I can't thank you enou-"

"Get to the point before I throw you out." I growl. He shuts up really fast, but Gwen picks it up for him.

"Why us, Cap?" She asks, scratching the side of her head. "Why'd you pick a hayseed and a runt to help you run a military outfit?"

To answer that, I pull out even more papers strapped together as a book. Because Morgan basically dumped a library onto me to drown in. This one's a service record for the older troops outside of the militia. I flip through, landing first on Gwen's. "Your looks are deceiving, Gwen." I explain, looking at her medical chart. "I've seen castles survive less damage then what's on this list. And you've only been serving for five years."

"Folks like gettin' rough 'round here, what can I say?" She shrugs as she lifts both arms, still holding that smug expression.

"And I need someone who can handle that. Someone who can put the fear of Naga into anyone I need them to, and not get broken in the process." Turn a few pages, land on Percy, and read it off for him. "You've only been a Priest for half a year, and you've already done fifteen surgeries." I grimace as I read the two newest names on the boy's list, the pain in my chest renewing at the picture. "...Including Sir Gerome and Lady Cynthia. No one's died under your care, once. Even when they've had no business in living."

I snap the book shut, then toss it back under the table. Push myself up standing, and give them both one last look. "If this is going to work. If we're going to _win._ I'm gonna need to take a lot of gambles. This is the first one. Neither of you have much experience, but we're short on veterans. Both of you have something exceptional, and I'm going to exploit it because no one else will. Understood?"

Both of them salute over to me as an answer. Now it's my turn to smile at them. "Great. Now get out of my face, and get to work."


	20. C-16: The Only Easy Day

AS I was asleep the night before, with the planning of a certain junior pegasus knight and the assistance of the army's assorted mages, an assembly hall had been erected near the center of the tent village . Or 'cantonment', I guess. The difference in vocabulary here in Roseanne makes my head spin.

Either way, I found myself sitting in a wooden building only being held together by a few well placed hexes. Caeldori had proposed the idea to Virion himself before I arrived. The wood itself had been worked on by a group of refugees from the Risen razed town I had passed through, cut down into planks and beams. But instead of being held together by nails and mortar, a stasis field surrounded the walls. Sort of like an invisible film that was keeping everything intact. It's supposed to keep the building together for a week. But I keep expecting everything to fall apart and bury me alive.

Doesn't help that I can feel the hex reverberating around me. Magical sensitivity was one of the traits I inherited paternally, if anything. Everyone else seems ignorant to the shaking, they can't see the small waves pulsating next to the wood. They don't need to resist the pressure against their ears.

Or maybe that's just coming from the din of the assembly itself. Every officer with a command is here. From smaller company Captains like myself, to Majors in charge of full battalions, to the few Colonels heading the present regiments. I feel like a small fish in a big pond, my black and white Nohrian mercenary gear makes me stick out in the sea of Roseannean lavender and the assorted splotches of Ylissean blue.

Note to self; get some supplies, make a new outfit. Maybe dye the sleeves on this one blue in the meantime.

So, why are we here you ask? Scouting reports. The Valentians have already started massing in the same forest Beril's scouts were decimated in. At least a few thousand of them had already arrived, but as of now we outnumbered them. Half of us, including me, were pushing for a preemptive strike. Taking out a chunk of the enemy's forces before the main body arrived would be very, very useful.

Problem is, it could easily just be a trap.

'Always assume your enemy is smarter than you are.' A lesson my father taught me, in both worlds. Maddox looked like a brute, and spoke like one too. But he wasn't an idiot by any standards. He would've learned from what happened to the scouting party I was with. Sending another piece of his forces forwards was just asking for more problems to fall onto his head. But playing the fool's an easy way to trick your opponent in a lot of things, war included.

But it still felt so damn tempting. We could just reach out and end the battle before it even begins. Wipe out a chunk of the invading army, maybe I could hunt down the people who almost killed Cynthia and Gerome. Putting a sword through them would be nice. Plus maybe I could do the same to Beril too…

"You're giving off a rather unnerving smile." A voice to my right chimed I turned to see a brown haired, blue armored cavalier watching me with amused caution. Blue eyes searched over my expression, as if he was playing a guessing game. "The Captain did warn me about you having that look. Feeling a bit stabby?"

My 'stabby' smile drops as it's replaced by my usual glowering grimace. "Stow it, Rudy." I eek out, looking back to the front as a Ylissean officer pleads the case for having Morgan's forces attack first. Something about less risk due to better training, which totally didn't sound condescending at all. Except it did, even if it was true. I could see every one of the local soldiers burning holes into the back of his head with their gaze.

"Yes ma'am, Miss Takeda ma'am." The man answered in kind with a sarcastic mirth, clearly trying to poke at me by using my married name. Subaki had been given command of a cavalry company, due to his experience with horses both winged and not. And just like me, he was also given an Lieutenant to help. This annoying fop by the name of Rudolf. He fancies himself something of a comedian, It's the only reason why he teases me like this.

"Remind me again why you're sitting here? Don't have anyone else to torture?" I mutter out, not wanting to cause a scene with the people who were sitting in front of us. I'd chosen the rear of the whole lineup so I could try and get some solitude. Maybe avoid a headache for one stinking day. But as usual, it seems like fate enjoys using me as it's eternal punching bag. Ugh….

"I thought you needed company!" Rudy explained, before his jovial nature dropped down an octave." ..Plus, this was the only chair left." He admitted, shrugging his shoulders before his grin returned. "Besides! I thought you'd like to see a familiar face!"

"Your brother's a familiar face, Rudy. You're a familiar pain in the arse." I counter, just as one of Roseanne's mages steps up and begins hurling insults at the Ylissean. My intrepid countryman had put his foot in his mouth even more. Something about Roseanne's militia being unable to properly 'move into combat without being forced to withdraw.' I can see Morgan palming her face from here. Preferring to avoid whatever catastrophe was about to unfold in front of me, I turn back to face my unwelcome company. "I still can't believe you're even here. I thought you were an apothecary."

"I am!" He confirms before carrying on with his explanation in defiance to the full on yelling match that was happening at the head of the building. "But a new regiment got raised in my town, and I thought-." He snaps his fingers. "-'Hey, Rudy. This might be your only chance to see the world! Be a hero, just like your big bro!' So I signed up. And next thing I know, we got shipped here."

I groan internally. "Fine. Just, don't expect me to babysit you. And don't give Subaki any trouble." I finish, just as I hear a crash of thunder boom out. My head whips about, looking in it's direction.

Turns out Morgan decided to blow the whistle on the whole affair. By firing a blast of magic right into the ceiling. Charred fibers of wood fell down onto the heads of both parties in question, staring up at the angered commander with fear before they scurried back to their seats. I sat myself down, pinching the bridge of my nose and exhaling.

Rudy whistles audibly, cackling at the sight. "Commander Volkner's got a temper…" He comments, stating the obvious.

"She got it from our mother." I manage to say, mentally preparing myself for a long day.

* * *

**"YOU LAZY SHITHEADS! STRIKE FASTER, BEFORE I BREAK MY PIKE OFF IN ALL OF YER ASSES!"**

I sit on the sidelines of the training field, silently watching a platoon of the new recruits go through their drills in silence. At first I was wary about letting Gwen take the reigns, but she's actually taking this job more seriously than I expected. The girl is a natural drill sergeant, able to project her voice over a crowd and assert herself as the dominant figure. Her new look also helps, clearly standing out from the typical purple soldier's uniform everyone else wore.

She's going through the motions I told her to do. Testing the waters, trying to see what they're all capable of. Mostly just trying to see if they can take basic orders. They'd started long before I returned from the meeting, and the fact that they were still occupied gave me plenty of time to think.

Blanche and Morgan both decided against pressing an attack. Too many variables to worry about; the trees were perfect to cause an ambush, the odd nature of the situation, the fact that most of our troops were still green recruits. It wasn't a safe move to attack, even if it meant missing a big opportunity. No, we were gonna hold here and fortify. Set up trenches, palisades and minefields. Oh my, oh my.

Still, my mind wandered as I thought about the situation as a whole. The Risen coming back was gnawing away at the back of my brain. Morgan locked herself up into her command tent as soon as the meeting was over, raring to go at the mask. No one was allowed in or out except Virion, Cherche and the Brigadier. She even refused to let me inside, of all people! Sniveling little weasel.

Didn't help that I'm starting to feel really off. I'd noticed it more and the longer we were back home, but my head keeps feeling like it's in a vice. I keep getting more irritated too, something in my head is just… angry. Constantly, endlessly angry. And it's getting worse. My dreams were getting more vivid, and sometimes, I swear I can hear something strange. Like a muffled growl getting louder and louder.

Am I finally losing it? Is this how Owain feels literally all the time? Am I gonna start busting into random performances and going on about my fell hand? Gods, I hope not. Rather an archer shoot me now than let that become me.

Need to focus. Bring myself back into the present, these are problems I can fix when I win this war.

I shoot a whistle over to Gwen, the green haired harpy was currently putting the fear of death into one of the recruits as they missed a strike on their practice target. She barks off a chain of threats and insults, some advice laced in between before she walks her way over to me and shoots off a pleased grin. "Afternoon, Cap. How'd the fancy pants meetin' go?"

"Stupid and a waste of my time." I answer in kind, looking behind her to see her previous target running off to rejoin the group as they ran around the practice field. No one seemed to be falling behind, they could all keep pace in full kit. Says nothing about their endurance though. "Nothing happened that'll matter to you. How's the Company?"

"Well they ain't any Chon'sin Swordmasters, that's fer sure." She informs with a snort, moving to stand to my side and remove a toothpick from her sleeve. Bit gross, but I guess she has to keep them somewhere. "Most of'em ain't ever held anything 'cept a pitchfork or a broom. They can run, and they can listen. Well, almost all of'em can listen."

"Almost?" I ask with an edge in my voice. I'd rather not have to deal with someone not doing as I say in the middle of a battle.

She picks at her teeth with the wooden instrument, before pointing at the boy at the very head of the group. Blonde hair, blue eyes, well built. Handsome, actually. I'd imagine he had plenty of suitors when he was back home. "That feller there thinks he's too good to be told what tuh do. Apparently his Dad is the Mayor of that lil'town we blew through that got uh… y'know, crispy fried?"

"And he joined up?" I ask, not expecting any of the refugees to have signed on to get thrown into another death pit.

She grunts, dropping her hand to her side. "Lotta folks from Genieve did, believe it or not. We gave'em the option to stay here, join up, or try and hoof it back to Roseanne proper. Lot of the women left with their kids, but a bunch signed on."

"Didn't know we even had the supplies to give them uniforms, let alone weapons." I grumble.

Gwen shrugs. "I look like some sorta stock-keep, Cap? I just stab the bad guys."

"And terrorize people." I add.

"Naw, that ain't my job. That's just a perk." She half-jokes. "...Speakin' of, ma'am. I wanted tuh tell ya… thanks."

"For?"

"Doin' this. Makin' me yer Sarn't Major." Gwen clarified, gesturing at her new get-up. A lavender steel chestplate and shoulderpads encasing her. New helmet with a few flowery designs along the hem of the armor. Plus a wide, cast-iron shield and new wraps for her arms. "I just…" She took in a breath. "-Gods, this is harder than I thought it'd be."

"Being grateful that foreign to you Gwen?" I jab playfully, but I'm answered by a gruff huff.

"Yeah, it honestly is." She answers in kind. "...My folks died when Walhart came and started burnin' things down. Didn't have no one to take me in, so I went to the Capitol. Was a street kid for a while. Only way I could eat was either stealin' from folks or doin' odd jobs. After his Duke-ly-ness came back, he started rebuildin'. So when the Army took volunteers, I signed up."

I nod, understanding all too well what it's like to lose your parents in war. "I know how it feels. My 'folks' died in the war too."

Another huff, but she keeps moving. "M'point is, I didn't think I was ever gonna be nothin' more than a normal soldier fer the rest of my life." She explained. "Sure as hell never expected'em to make me a Corporal, I guess that was b'cause I was the only person in my platoon who could read n'write. Then a few years later, you come along and now, well, I'm as high as I'm allowed to get."

It hit me then, how this was probably the furthest this girl was ever going to get in her career. She was a street rat war orphan with no education, no noble lineage and no qualifications. They'd never make her an officer, being a Sergeant was probably the best job she could've ever dreamed of.

"Gwen, can I ask you a question?" I start, continuing on before I can even let her approve or deny my request. "Why're you here? As in, why're you a soldier? You could've become a mercenary, or a bodyguard, or a thief. Hell, good thieves make good money."

"And bad thieves get th'axe." Gwen muses, chuckling darkly as she shook her head. "I just wanna make sure folks don't get dealt the same hand I did. There was a lotta us loner kids after Walhart came." She shrugs again, surprising me with how casually blunt she relays the subject matter. "Most of us didn't last. Either starved, got sick, got killed, or whatever."

"Huh." Is my only answer. Not gonna lie, didn't expect a noble reason from the lady who was willing to let me drown in a river just because I nearly up-chucked on her footwear.

I think she can tell that, smiling at me in amusement. "Don't get me wrong, Cap. The pay's a real nice incentive too. Oh, and th'fact that I get to kick some Valmese kiester."

"Eye on the prize, Gwen." I mull this new information about my subordinate over, all the while continuing the conversation. "Anyway, the Mayor's brat?"

"The Mayor's brat." Gwen parroted. "He don't like bein' told what to do. Thinks he's more qualified tuh bein' in charge than me or you." The soldier folded her arms over her chest, narrowing her eyes at the subject of the conversation. "Boy's gonna get people killed with that attitude."

"Agreed. You have a plan?"

She doesn't answer for a moment, visually racking her mind for an answer. "Well the standard punishment for insubordination's…"

"We're not whipping him." I state with absolution, realizing where she's going with that.

"It ain't that bad." She levies. "You stop feelin' it after the first fifty."

Can't say I've ever been flogged, but I still don't believe that at all. "Really? Speaking from experience?"

Another shrug. "I might've not liked my first Captain that much. Might've skipped a few trainin's. Possibily could've called him 'know nothin' cousin fucker' to his face."

Nice to see I have such a great standard to uphold then. Roseanne's military is keeping up the standard of being draconian as hell. "Language, dear."

Gwen balks, her shoulders slouching and her eyes giving me a stare that just transmits disbelief. "What? We're adults, ain't we?"

"Don't care. So what's the alternative?"

She thinks again, scratching her cheek as we both follow the running troops with our gaze. "It's still early. He might grow outta this, get his head right." She offers.

"You wouldn't be bringing it up if you had faith in that." I answer back.

"Suppose I wouldn't. But I try to be hopeful sometimes." Our soldiers round the bend for yet another lap, their equipment and weapons clunking together loudly. They're keeping a decent pace, there's a few of them that are clearly running ahead of the others. It's easy to tell they've never run around in outfits this heavy before.

That's when an idea pops into my head. None of these people know what it's like to be in a real battle. I'm sure a few of'em have been in a tavern brawl, or a fist fight. But a full blown sword dance is something completely new to them. They don't know what to expect at all, most of these guys were probably still kids during Walhart's run.

"I know that look. That's the look people get when they's plannin' somethin'." Gwen leans forwards, looking at me expectantly.

"Call for reprieve. Tell them to reform here in half an hour." I order. "And dig Percy out of the medical bay, we might need him."

"Uh… I thought we said we wasn't whippin' him." The lancer warily states, eyes shifting nervously. Guess she isn't as onboard with her proposal as I thought.

I chuckle cryptically, standing up and slapping her on the back. "You'll see, Gwen. Just do as I say."

In times like these, a demonstration is in order.

* * *

An hour later, Percy returns with Caeldori in two. The four of us sit at the edge once more as the recruits have moved onto spars. A little over eighty men and women, battling one another in pairs. Swinging around practice lances as they see fit, trying to land blows on one another. Most of them making utter fools of themselves.

One boy at the front has a bit of promise, but is far too stiff. Whenever he's attacked, he stiffens and ends up with a wooden blade whopping him in the gut. Doesn't know how to block for his life.

Another pair of men, older than I am, keep thrusting at one another. They're both rather muscular, actually. Look like farmers, and they fight like some too. Every motion made with as spear looks like they're trying to use it like a pitchfork.

Then there's one girl who's about Caeldori's age, tripping over herself each time she even tries to move an inch. She can't even take a step without stumbling. Here I thought Cynthia was hopeless, this takes the cake.

Still, my attention is focused on a singular fellow. The man from Geneve that Gwen told me about before, Vincent. He's in the middle of the group, one of the few people who seems to actually know what he's doing. Not surprising, most lesser nobles tend to join the military for honor and glory. Most also tend to get themselves killed in the process. But, it usually means they've got combat training, which means he's got a leg up on most.

He's fought fifteen different people, and the longest I've seen one last in two minutes. The victories are easily going to his head.

"I don't like him." Caledori comments, matching my narrowed eyed gaze at the boy as he laughs at another defeated opponent. Swiped the legs right from under them, then smacked them in the gut with the spear's shaft for extra humiliation.

"No one likes him. The rest of his platoon can't stand him." Percy follows up, drumming his hands on his staff as it rests on his lap. "He's a bully."

"He's a problem." Gwen affirms once more. "Cap, you said you have a plan."

"I do, I do." I assure, watching him harass another person into being his latest punching bag. Need to get enough wind under his sails for this to work.

"I could just speak to him. I'm sure being reprimanded by a staff officer would mean something." Caeldori offers.

Percy shook his head, sighing somberly. "People like that don't stop when they're told not to. They just do it quieter." He grumbles, likely thinking back to his past. My heart pangs at the thought, looking at the Priest soberly. Percy is a bit thin, plus with the glasses… Naga's sake he must've been terrorized as a child.

My hands ball up into fists as the blowhard knocks another man to the ground. I can hear myself growling like an angry bear as I stand, stalking myself forwards. Caeldori calls out behind me, but I can't make it out. My target's the only thing I'm focusing on.

"Are you all so easily bested!?" He boasts, hoisting his practice spear high and looking around him. "Lackies, all of you! I'll be the only one to last through the first battle."

His cheering stops when his eyes finally fall onto me, but his insufferable smile remains on his face. He bowls grandly, clearly taking the piss out of the whole situation as I stand at his front. "Ah, Captain! Come to grace the best soldier in the Company?"

"There's more to soldiering than beating the crap out of your comrades, jackass!" One of the men hollers, flashing a crude gesture at Vincent. Not that he cares, he just laughs it off and plants the shaft of the spear into the ground.

"Such sore losers. Unable to accept defeat at the hands of their betters." He's addressing the crowd again, but the words sink in deep with me.

I've had to deal with so many silver-spoon gentiles in my life. People who never had to work for anything, and were given it all. Even back in my time they existed, able to flee from the Risen while simple townsfolk were left to fend for themselves. Bought a nice roomy apartment in Ylisstol while refugees were packed like animals in the tenement slums. Never shared anything, never helped anyone.

I was born well off, but at least I made something of it. Time to teach this scumbag how a real noble fights.

"Back away! Twenty meters, all of you!" I command, looking over my shoulder to see everyone comply. A circle is formed haphazardly, with everyone watching me confront this sod.

"My dear commander, do you mean to applaud me for my efforts publically?" Vincent chides, spurring my temper even further. "I'm honored!"

"You said you're the best soldier in the Company." I manage out, squaring myself straight. "Let's test that."

His Cheshire grin only spreads, readying his spear and leveling it at me. "A duel, then? Alright. Where's your weapon?"

"You think I need one?" I ask, insulted at the idea. I can snap this punk in two with my bare hands. I will snap him in two.

"Oof, the foreigner has quite the confidence! But last I heard you Ylissean types weren't much for fighting regardless." He tutted swaying the tip of his lance in the place of a shaking head. "Didn't your last Exalt splatter herself on rocks because your Army was so incompetent?"

That's when my brain finally shuts off. Any reservations I had were blown apart with that insult. Silently I take up a fighting stance, putting pressure on my back foot and bringing my fists up. The world vanishes except for what's in front of me. All excess sound disappears. My thoughts sharpen.

 _'Kill him slowly.'_ The only words I hear other than him, in my own twisted voice.

"Maybe if I win this, they'll give me my own command! So I won't have to take orders from two foreigners and a knuckle-dragging troglodyte of a Sergeant Major." The boy boasts as he prepares himself, locking the spear under his arm. My eyes focus on the tip as it steadies.

Then, he charges.

The blade is aimed low, clearly going for my stomach.

I count down the seconds as he comes. Three, two…

One.

Sidestep to the right.

Grab the shaft, right below the practice blade.

Spin right, keep my hold firm. I see him tumble over as he loses his own handle.

Walk over and smash the shaft against the side of his head. He falls to his side.

Lift the weapon up, bring it down again. I hollow, blunt smack rings as the wood contacts the skin.

Strike down once more, but he grabs the spear. I reward him by sending my iron toe'd boot right into his chest. He collapses, clutching at his heart as he gasps for a new breath of air. Follow it up with another, harder kick. As he flops onto his back, I chuck the weapon down onto his stomach.

I pace back a few steps, then take up my original position. Feet fixed, shoulders square, fists raised.

 **"Up."** I hear myself order. Much to my pleasure, he complies. Has to use the spear to do it, but he gets there. He readies himself once more, aiming the blade at my chest this time. But he doesn't charge. One look at his eyes betrays why. His pupils are dilated, shaking in his blue irises as they stare back at me. His arms are shaking now, his breathing seems off pace.

He's scared of me. And I'm relishing every moment of it.

 **"Well?"** The question is said in my voice, but it feels like something else is saying it. Vincent winces at the call, but doesn't come forwards. Merely standing there like a terrified animal. A cockroach waiting for me squash it.

It'd be rude to keep him waiting for long.

I lunge forwards, ducking low as he weakly thrusts at my form. One of my hands grabs his arm, the other grabs his neck. A split second later he's being flipped over my and driven deep into the dirt. A sound registers in my ear, something like a scream before he flops into a pile of person.

The spear's on the ground next to him as he groans in pain. Weakly the broken boy tries to grab at it. Inching closer and closer. It's almost adorable.

I pace over to him, then grind my boot against his hand right as he's about to reach the shaft. Another scream, followed by the telltale sound of cracking fingers.

Oops.

I bend over and grab the spear, holding it at my side as I make sure to step in his line of sight. Then I lift the weapon up and smash it against my knee, driving it in two before throwing the pieces onto the ground.

With that final act, the rest of the world comes back.

First the smell. The field's dirt mixed with wafting into my nostrils. Then the sound of the bystanders clamoring around me. A few cheers were being raised among the crowd, glad to see the upstart knocked off of his pedestal. Feeling returned after that, my gloves chafed against my skin. Taste next, blood. Bit the inside of my cheek and didn't notice it.

Then sight comes. Most of the company seem rather pleased with the results of the impromptu duel, clapping and hollering happily. Each of the people whom he'd assaulted before were among them, glad that the terror was over. But peppered in between them were a few stares that matched Vincent in his final moments.

Fear. Fear of me. Fear that they'd be next if they fell out of line.

I looked over to my three compatriots and saw they too look at me oddly. Gwen's taken completely aback, her mouth frozen in a small 'O'. Caeldori's utterly mortified, staring at me as if I'd just murdered the boy. Percy's can't even look, his eyes were boring into the ground as he tried to find an escape.

I mutter curses under my breath. It happened again, just like in the main hall at the castle. I lost control and flew off the handle. It's not as bad, but… ugh. No, no. Damage control.

"LeRoux. Get over here and start treating him." I call. Percy shuffles out, still avoiding me as he crouches down and gets to work checking the wounded's condition. I kneel down next to him, giving him a solid minute before I speak again. "How bad?"

"His hand's broken in four places." He answers meekly. "Bruising along his ribs. He'll be out for a few days."

"Can you help him?" I ask, cursing myself. Of course he can fix him, even without the stave it would be easy.

"I can." I confirms. As I go to stand, his hand flies out and grabs my arm. "This never happens again." He demands in a steely voice, any timidness from before non-existent. "If it does, I quit. Got it?"

"It won't." I promise sincerely, letting him keep his grip on me. "I don't plan to make this a regular thing."

"...I'll take your word for it." Percy answers softly, before standing up and waving for Caeldori and Gwen to come over. The two girls lift up Percy's patient, while the priest himself walks alongside them and begins chanting a few incantations.

As they leave, the rest of the company's still there. Staring at me expectantly, waiting for my next word. Damn it all, this wasn't what was supposed to happen. I was just supposed to knock him down a few times, not send him to the infirmary.

"Listen up." I start, the voices quieting down as they all listen to my speak. "I don't care who you are, where you're from, or what you did before this." I point into the group, shifting my perspective as I speak. "From here on out, whatever you were before now doesn't matter. No one is better than anyone else. Not you, not me." I drop my hand. "In a War, the person trying to stab you doesn't give a toss about your life story. And neither do I. Got it?"

All of them answer affirmatively in something resembling unison, a loud **'Yes, Captain!'** filling the air around me.

"I'm going to get you all through this." I promise again, just as truthfully as I was to Percy.

"Even if I need to break you apart, and rebuild you first."


	21. C-17: I Forgot to Remember to Forget

That night I'm sitting outside the medical tent, head lolled back as I look up towards the starlit sky. A few people find they way in and out through the flaps, paying me no mind as they go about their business. A few of the soldiers try to salute me, and I just weakly return it with a nod before I go back to stargazing.

Percy told me to wait out here until everything was settled. This marks the second time I'm sitting outside of a clinic, waiting for him to do something. Starting to become a bit of a trend. I'd find it funny if it wasn't for the circumstances.

I went too far. Everything in my mind keeps telling me the same thing, that I went too damn far.

I can't even remember any of it! One moment he's running his mouth about Emmeryn's death, the next he's on the ground in front of me and I'm holding a broken spear. He was battered and bruised, bleeding from so many new cuts. And his _hand_ , it looked like someone fed it into a cotton gin. Fingers shouldn't bend like that!

Caeldori, oh Gods. She never seemed so shell-shocked before in her life. I haven't even been able to talk to her since we left the training grounds.

What… is _wrong_ with me? What's going on? This crap keeps happening, over and over again. Just these surges of violence. I haven't felt this way since… since… before we traveled back in time. In our last year there, Lucina told me I nearly went off the rails. Drawing weapons on people, attacking anyone who slighted me or even looked the wrong way my friends.

I need to fix this. I need to find out why my head's so messed up and fix it before I do something really bad.

The tent flap pushes open once more, and Percy shuffles next to me. My new surgeon sits himself next to me, setting his staff between his legs and clutching it so it kept upright. His eyes rest on me for a moment, the pupils within almost shaking with uncertainty before he sighs and rests his head back.

"He'll be out of his bed tomorrow morning." Percy informs me, pressing his glasses back up his nose. "Light duties for the coming week. I'm gonna exempt him from training drills, and I'll run him through daily check-ups to make sure he stays on the mend."

"Keep me in the loop." I answer, going back to look at the twinkling lights dancing above us. That old story of stars being the past looking down on those they left behind is ringing in my ears. Wonder how my forefathers are judging me now.

"...I need to say something, b-before we continue." Percy managed out, both his hands gripping his staff tightly. Naga's sake I think I can see a few veins popping through the felt on his gloves, and his voice is shaking more than Anna's store cart on a bumpy road.

I turn to face him, quirking a brow as a signal for him to continue. The boy breaths in and out twice, his hands fiddling with the shaft of the staff before trying to rest himself. "Get on with it, Percy." I order, my face turning into an unamused glare.

"J-just, give me a moment!" Percy answers sharply, edging a bit further away from me on the grass. "Y-you're a scary lady, alright!? I don't wanna get smacked!"

"I'll smack you if you don't **get on with it."** I threaten, before biting myself back. He tries to scurry away even further, but I reach over and grab his shoulder. I'm trying to be gentle, but he yelps like his arm's getting torn off. "Wait."

He does as I say, stiffly. The Priest is clearly fighting every fiber in his being to keep himself from sprinting away, but he manages to do so. With my usual sigh, I release my grip and rest both my hands in my lap.

"I'm sorry." I start. "I'm sorry that I hurt one of our people. I'm sorry that I put more work on you. I'm sorry that I forced you into this position, when you're obviously uncomfortable with being around me. And I swear, it will _never_ happen again."

Percy absorbs my words, weighing the odds in his brain. Probably trying to tell if I'm being sincere or not. I am, Naga knows I am. I don't want to be some kind of cold ice queen to everyone anymore, not after everything that's happened. Snarky and sarcastic? Sure, I'm always happy to rib people. But not unfair, not cruel.

Thankfully he sees that, and brings himself to sit next to me again. He exhales strongly and clutches his chest, and I giggle softly. He _really_ held his breath that entire time? Jeez, kid. At least have a little bit of a spine.

The boy shoots a weak glare at me, but my giggles just escalate into full blown laughter. Percy's shoulders sag in defeat, a sad frown on his face as I yuck it up. "Are you done?" He asks.

I wipe a tear from my eye, nodding. "So, you were saying?"

"I was _going_ to rattle off this speech I had prepared in my head, but I didn't expect you to aquesse without any prodding." Percy mutters bitterly. I almost feel bad about stealing his big moment from him.

"Aren't you glad I did? If I didn't, it'd mean I thought what I did was perfectly fine. And that isn't the kinda person _I'd_ wanna be around." I explain to him, and he nods along in agreement.

"Suppose it worked out then." He agrees, humming to himself before snapping his fingers. "Can we talk about something else then? The last time we tried we were interrupted.

I smile at the kid, nudging him with my shoulder. "Sure. Lay it on me."

"I... I wanted to ask you about the Ylissean League again." He explains. Riiiight, the last time we tried to have this conversation, Blanche came and gave me that little 'talk'. Guess that's two ladies in the world he's rather terrified of.

"Bit of a random topic, eh kid?" I prod.

"I know it seems random but-" He continues after another breath. "You were with the heroes who saved the entire continent from Walhart! Lord Virion, Empress Say'ri, _Chrom of Ylisse!?_ They're all legends here!"

"Virion's a legend…?" I ask in disbelief. That cravat wearing, flanderizing, over dramatic nincompoop is a _legend?_ In the land of Tiki for crying out loud?!

"The Duke and Duchess rebuilt the country in seven years, Miss Severa!" Percy exclaims joyously. "Even when everyone wanted him gone! My own parents were part of the mob that tried to run him out when he returned! But he did care. He just kept working, even when we all hated him."

"Reminds me of a story about someone." I think back to what Lucina said about her late Aunt. Emmeryn had gone through the same pains, both in this timeline and mine. Lucina looked up to that woman's own legend during the later days of her rule. Seems like all of House Lowell's leaders were something to aspire too.

"It's just, you knew them. You fought alongside them, right?" He keeps going. "The stories I've heard makes them all to be special characters, but they're all so larger than life."

Bold of him to assume that. "Percy, you know I could've just been a grunt, right? I could've never spoken a word to the Exalt or the Empress."

"If you were, then why'd Commander Volker put you in a position of authority so fast?" He reasons. "Why's the Duke so familiar with you? And how could a normal grunt be so good in a fight?"

Huh. The little twerp actually has a really good noggin behind those specs. Pretty solid deductive skills.

"OK. I'll tell you what I know, if you answer one last question." He nods his head up and down quickly, so fast I'm worried it'll fly off his neck. "Why in the heck are ya asking me now?"

Percy gulps, his mouth moving as he tries to find the words. Though it really comes out as an unintelligible mess. I let him tire himself out before he realizes that neither of us can understand what he's saying. Then, he tries again.

"I wanna get to know you better, Miss Severa." He admits. "We've only spoken once or twice. And well, now I work for you. The only things I _do_ know about you are that you're very scary and **very** angry!"

"Has anyone ever told you that you need to work on your delivery." I say, less of a question and more of a blunt faced observation.

"Why the heck do you think I heal people instead of deliver sermons?" He answers smugly, grinning as he gives me a nudge. "Come on, stop stalling! Let's talk about the war!"

"Are you…" For pete's sake, he really isn't going to let this go. "Fine, fine. Where do you wanna start?"

He rubs his chin for a moment, before snapping again. I guess that's a tick for him whenever he thinks of an idea. "Start from the start! When the League landed in Valm!"

"Wasn't there, squirt." I inform, much to his dismay. "Joined up with them a good while after they made landfall."

"But I thought you were Ylissean!" Percy protests, pouting as he loses a chance to find out the initial battle.

I chuckle at his misfortune, rolling my shoulders before relaxing back against the tent. "I am, but I was doing some mercenary work in Brisbonne." I'm gonna need to lie a decent bit in this story, but I can at least start off with the truth.

"So when did you join up with the League?" He asks, trying to find a point where I can start telling him about the conflict first hand. Just like the rest of my life, just like what I told Subaki, Morgan and Camilla, it's complicated. But I can probably spin the story like it was some kind of battle.

I sigh, and think back to the fortress. Back to the town I couldn't protect.

* * *

Brisbonne wasn't much, but it was certainly quaint.

The country's on a peninsula at the south eastern edge of Valm itself. Most of the land's dotted with fishing villages, farms, small shops and rolling hills. The only big city to speak of was the Capitol, which I never even went to. Only heard stories about it from townspeople and traders who came to and fro along the roadways.

When I first showed up as I feel from the portal, I was terrified. We'd gone through the eye and I was all alone, in the middle of a land and time I didn't know anything about. Naga said we would all land somewhere in Ylisse, but even with everything _not_ on fire it didn't take me long to realize this wasn't home. The dialect was different, for one. None of the landmarks seemed familiar at all, even counting the destroyed state we left Ylisse in. Plus I was able to walk from coast to coast in a few days flat.

That's when I happened upon Hobart, the town that I'd set up shop in for the next year of my life. Hobart did remind me of the home I spent my childhood in. It was an old, countryside manor that was surrounded by fields. The ground was level and the soil was soft. Room for Mother to let her pegasus roam and graze, a sanctum for Father to avoid the endless work of Ylisstol. Funnily enough, we ended up spending half the time in the city anyway. Morgan and I spent so many nights sleeping over at the castle the servants ended up giving us permanent rooms, even before Mom and Dad died.

One night I passed out on the settlement's outskirts, and a pair of townsfolk brought me into their home. Newlyweds, I could tell before they informed me by how sickly sweet they were around each other. The man's name was Holland, red hair and a scruffy beard that always looked half shaved. Theresa was his wife, a simple looking brunette with dimpled cheeks and a tired expression. Both worked as shopkeepers in the square, running the general store and living a modest life.

They let me sleep on an extra bed in their attic. Spared me some food and drink too, even though I was rather hostile to their hospitality. The next day they'd called the local Priest over to see if I was injured, and I promptly scared him away when he tried to remove my gloves. Both of them weren't happy with my showing, but back then I was too paranoid to care about what other people thought of me.

When they told me where I was, I slipped into one of the darkest ruts I'd ever been in. Alone, on an island. Miles away from Ylisse, cut off by an entire ocean. Not a coin on me to try and find a ship to my destination. Plus, for all I knew, I was the only one of the kids who'd made it. There wasn't a trace of Lucina or Cynthia or Noire or, well, _**anyone.**_ For all I knew they were dead, and I'd become the sole survivor of our future.

Stayed up in the attic for five days after that. Didn't talk, barely ate. I'd spend most of my days lying on that lumpy bed, staring at the shingled roof or the wedding ring I kept around my neck. It was valuable, for sure. Easily could've sold it for a pretty penny. But that wasn't gonna happen for obvious reasons. That ring became my tether to the world, as I felt myself slipping further and further away. Things in Hobart were calm and peaceful, and if the family that took me in was anything to go by, they knew nothing about war.

That ring was proof that what I'd gone through wasn't just some bad dream. All the things I lost were real, they happened. My memories weren't just some dark fantasy whipped up by some girl with delusions of grandeur. They were going to happen again, unless I got off my arse and did something about it.

Theresa managed to get me down one day and sat me at her kitchen table. Then she told me that she'd arranged for me to speak with the village elder.

The old man turned out to be _Holland's_ old man, and on their word he offered me a proposition. Work in the town for as long as I was willing to stick around, and he'd compensate a room for me above the couple's store along with a decent pay. No one there really knew their way around a blade, so my showing up seemed like a blessing in disguise.

I didn't want to settle in, but I also didn't have any other options. Besides, getting a job meant I might be able to get enough coin to hop onto a ship. Or at least bribe a deckhand into letting me help stow away. Anything to get back to Ylisse.

The rest of my time in Hobart, I lived with them. A stack of coins slowly piling up as I got ready to take that trip across the sea. Being a town watchman was surprisingly easy. Most nights, I only had to deal with raunchy drunks and petty thieves. Sometimes a small pack of bandits would find their way to my sanctum, but they were easy enough to deal with.

Over time I ended up getting a bit too attached to Holland and Theresa. Funny enough, I was the one who told her that she was pregnant. Poor girl got woozy one afternoon, so I took a bit of time to help her about the shop. She couldn't keep food down, felt light headed, at first you'd think it was the flu. But she wasn't burning up, and her eyes seemed fine. So after a bit of prodding, she told me that she missed her last… time of the month.

Oh, the look on Holland's face when I told him. I'll never forget that expression of pure panic. Subaki looked the exact same way, as if he didn't know how babies were made.

But like everything else in my life, nothing good stayed that way.

A ship landed on the coast, small, but full of Valmese troops. A piece of work named Nelson started pillaging the countryside, taking anything and everything he could find. Food, tools, livestock and coin. Especially coin. It got so bad that people stopped coming near Hobart entirely, and the town slowly started to wither away. I tried, Naga knows I **tried** to beat them back. But every time I killed one of them two more showed up the next day. Everyone else in town was useless in a fight, what was I supposed to do? Throw a staff in their hands and make them help? None of them knew how to fight, I'd only get more people killed.

Then Nelson personally came to town. Him and a crew of his lackeys started looting everything in sight. Sooner or later they hit the General Store, and managed to snatch everything that wasn't nailed down.

Including my savings and my mother's wedding ring.

I marched up to an old fortress they'd taken over the next day, Holland tagging along despite my protests. It went… better than I expected. They didn't fight us, at least. If anything the opposite happened, Nelson wanted to hire me. A few of the rats I'd left alive scurried back to their den, and given me a decent reputation. He offered to pay me too, triple what the townspeople did. All I had to do was help him build his own little empire.

Almost said no. But then I saw the ring on his finger. He could tell I was looking, too, and flashed it at me. Smart weasel put two and two together, realized the ring was mine, and decided to hold it as collateral.

So I said yes. Even though it made me ill, I said yes to working for a violent, horrible man. Why?

Because he had my dead mother's ring.

Class act, Sev.

* * *

"...So what happened next?" Percy asked. He's turned around to face me, legs crossed like a school child listening to the teacher. Poor tyke was hanging on every word, waiting for some sort of big climax to happen.

"The Ylisseans showed up, Chrom included. Nelson got killed, I signed on with the good guys." I explain nonchalantly. "Maybe if you wait, I'll tell you how I did that."

"Still can't believe you were working with a Valmese General!" Percy protests in annoyance. "Isn't that like, treason?"

I shrug. "Probably. But I didn't know about the War. Plus Nelson wasn't a Valmese General anymore."

Percy tilts his head, intrigued by that information I'd kept from him. "So, can I continue?"

"Yes! Come on, I'm dying from suspense here!"

"You're the one stalling!" I protest, shooting a murderous glare at the boy as he shrinks away and quiets down. Swear to the Gods, some people don't know when to pipe down.

* * *

Lucky for me, Nelson was a paranoid sort of monster.

He always surrounded himself with the best of his fighters, letting the cannon fodder handle the looting and raiding. Holland ended up joining up himself, business at the shop withering away into nothing. Plus with his kid on the way, and Theresa not getting enough food for her or her passenger, he got desperate.

I'd spend day after day playing bodyguard for the bastard, listening to his delusions of grandeur. When he wasn't ranting about how much he hated Walhart for stunting his rise to power, he'd boast about how he'd create his own empire. Slowly get the funds and the men to overthrow the Count of Brisbonne, then spread his dirty mitts into the neighboring territories. Growing and growing until he thought he could take Walhart on himself.

Still couldn't believe the idiot threw away a position like being a Valmese General so he could turn into a glorified bandit leader. But at least he was as predictable as he was vain. After a few weeks I figured his pattern out easily enough; ambushing trade caravans and raiding the local settlements for everything they had.

It was unsustainable, for both him and the townspeople.

Holland managed to make a deal with him; the towns pay tribute and he stops with the pillaging. Sure, it nearly bankrupted them every month, but it kept their homes standing and their people breathing.

Meanwhile I'd spend my time toddling about the fort, checking for holes in the defenses. Most of the bandits were usually drunk, so my skulking never seemed to be noticed.

The walls were about to fall apart. Cracks criss-crossed their way from top to bottom along the supports. It didn't take an engineer to figure out where a few well placed firebombs would bring the whole thing down. I just had to figure out how to craft explosives, plant them, light them on fire, get everything Nelson had stolen out, and keep Holland alive. All the while making sure no one found out.

And you know what? I at least got the first part done before the Shepherds arrived!

Do you know how hard it is to teach yourself how to make a bomb!? And not some namby pamby fire cocktail, I'm talking an actual explosive! I had to bribe _three_ people to get the stuff I needed, nearly blew off my fingers twice while I put them together, almost blew my cover, **literally.** And just when I was planning out an escape, everything was set and ready, I just needed a few more weeks, Chrom shows up! Why was he even down there!? It was a hill-fort in the middle of nowhere!

...Why am I trying to justify myself to myself in my own thoughts? Do I do this every time something goes wrong? Naga's grace, I _do_ have a problem.

Whatever, anyway. One afternoon a few scouts come to Nelson's chamber and tell him that his Exalted Perfectness was making his way up the hill to fight him head on. Naturally, he panicked and started rallying his personal guard. Holland get sent off to the front with the rest of his cannon fodder. When I protested, Nelson held up the ring. Said as long as he had that, I had to do anything and everything he wanted.

That's when he waved me off and told me to check the gate. I could hear him laughing at me as I walked out the door.

That's when I finally had it. It was one thing to be a glorified guard dog for this slime, but I'd be damned if I killed for him. It'd betray everything that ring even stood for and why I even jumped through that portal to begin with.

I needed to find Holland and get us out of there. My plan probably wasn't gonna work, we weren't gonna get a second chance like this.

* * *

I'd omitted the parts about time travel anyway, just told him I was a wandering sell-sword moving from contract to contract. Considering my attitude, he bought the idea pretty quickly. Still, he looks rather disappointed now. "So that's it? Nothing important or dramatic? No fighting any of the actual Imperials?"

"Not until we went back to the mainland. I found my friend, Chrom dealt with Nelson, and I joined the League." I inform, lifting a hand and ruffling his hair against his will. "I'll tell you about that another time, champ."

"Stooooooooop!" Percy protests, batting my hand away and moving to straighten his hair once more. Once again I find myself giggling at his misfortune, but he doesn't seem to be holding it against me. It's nice to see him like this though. Whenever he isn't weighed down by his job, he's actually a really nice kid. If I ever have a son, I think it'd be nice if he turned out like this.

My enjoyment always seems to be on a timer, though. As I look up I can see Caeldori making her way towards us, an uneasy smile on her face. She offers a quick bow to Percy, the boy's face putting on a blush as he looks away, then another one to me. I answer with a nod, then lift my hand for her to grab.

"What is it now?" I ask as she grabs on, grunting as my daughter pulls me up. I begin to dust off the grass that's surely stuck to my keister, ears open for the explanation. "Did someone else get hurt? Someone took something they shouldn't have? Something's on fire?"

"None of the above." Caeldori dismisses, waving for me to come along with her as she starts trotting back the way she came. I look to my left and give Percy a parting wave, the boy smiling meekly before he returns himself back into the tent and gets to work.

"Then what's the matter?" I ask, eyes forward as the oil lamp light guides us walking between the tents. Caeldori's got one on her hip too, clunking softly against her riding gaiters and illuminating her hip.

"I just wanted to walk you to your tent." Caeldori muses innocently, as if nothing out of the ordinary was going on.

"Uh huh." I say as we walk, lock step with one another. "Why?"

"Because knowing you, you would have spent the entire night outside moping." She answers smugly, lowering her volume. "Something I've noticed with you, Mother. You tend to do bad things first, then drown in remorse afterwards.

"Elegant word-choice." I retort, snorting at her assessment.

She grins at me from my flank. "In truth, I planned to give you more of a lecture. But after your time with Mister LeRoux, I felt it unnecessary." Caeldori's grin falters as my dismay becomes apparent. Little weasel spent way too much time around Rhajat back in Hoshido, now she thinks she can snoop around and people won't bat an eye.

"I didn't want to interrupt." She explains half-heartedly. "Plus it let me see how you interact with Percival."

"Just call him Percy." I request.

"But I prefer Percival!" Caeldori answers in defiance. "Percy… reminds me of the old Percy. And they're both so different, I don't want to call them the same name."

"Ugh. Fine, call him whatever." I permit defeatedly. Not worth pulling hairs over this.

Caeldori's smile returns with her small victory, walking at my side as reach my tent. Peaking my head inside, I can see Subaki's already retired to our personal quarters. His desk is uninhabited, all his work stacked neatly on each side. Meanwhile on the opposite end, I still have a mess to work through.

"You left a lot out from your story." Caeldori chirps once more as I pull my head back from the inside. "You didn't even mention grandmother and grandfather."

"I had to fib a bit of it, dear. You know why." I give the tent one last look before sighing, before going inside fully and traversing over to my work. Caeldori follows, eyeing me as I start to shuffle the papers into stacks similar to my spouse.

A frown's creasing my face as Caeldori keeps the conversation going. "Do you really need to spend another night here? Father's worried sick, and so am I. It feels like you never speak with us now."

"Someone has to do this work." I note, pulling out a candlestick. As I set it down on the wood, remove my gloves and look at the wick. "And no, I'm not making you spend all night instead."

"I suppose this is another case of your being allowed to be a hypocrite?" Caeldori jabs weakly. I glance up to see my daughter's eyes, wallow in sorrow.

"You and your father come first to me. So I'm willing to be a hypocrite if it means you get proper sleep." I reply, cracking a small smile. "Go. I'll see you in the morning."

Caeldori nods, but remains stiff. Her eyes travel down to glance at the brand resting on the back of my hand, peering at it deeply. "That mark." She mumbles, leaning forwards to get a closer look. "Another thing you've never explained to me."

My hand goes to cover up the back of my hand, pulling both away from her line of sight. "Some things best remain buried."

"Even from me?" She presses.

" **Especially** from you." I inform. "This brand's given me and your Aunt hell from the moment we were born. There isn't a day that goes by I don't thank Naga you're free from it."

"That doesn't make me want to know why any less, Mother." Caeldori protests bitterly. "Can you please stop sheltering me from your past? Why? Why do you always keep so much about yourself away from everyone around you?"

"Hopefully, you'll never need to find out." I take the candlestick back in my hands, holding my thumb and forefinger at the wick.

It's been a while since I've used this trick. Anakos told us not to do anything that could reveal our links to other worlds. He took away Owain's brand, our hair colors, even our clothes. But I never bothered to try and see if I could still make use of my inheritance.

Now's a good a time as any.

I close my eyes, inhale, exale. When I open them I focus on the tip of my fingers. The flow of my aura's dormant, but it's there. Just a bit of jarring and…

I chuckle darkly as my fingers burst alight in purple flame. Like riding a bike.

Caeldori gasps, jumping away as I press my thumb and forefinger against the top of the wick. My birthmark rages alive with color as well, right before I kill the energy. Like a switch, it all turns off. The only remnant of what just occurred is the bright lavender flame that now illuminates the tent, bringing light to my face and my daughter's.

"What… what _was_ that?" Caeldori asks, leaning forward to inspect the flickering light as if it was an alien life form. She hops about the desk, trying to find something wrong with the fire itself.

My smile holds, though I want nothing more to just disappear into the ground. Ignis still works, not sure if that's a good or a bad thing yet.

Well, suppose I'll find out soon enough.


	22. C-18: Sins of the Father

It's been three weeks since I broke Vincent in half. Every day since then has been the same old same old. Wake up, breakfast, morning drills, lunch, midday drills, dinner, evening patrols, paperwork, bed. Over, and over, and over again. It's been so completely boring, I've been wound up waiting for something to happen.

I spend some time alone with Subaki at the mess tent. We try to talk and make some time for just ourselves, but with how everything's happening we never seem to have the free time. An hour at each meal at best. Sometimes one of us sneaks into the other's tent, but people are starting to give me weird looks when I wander out of his quarters at the break of dawn.

So without making any progress on that front, we part and I take a plate of eggs to my desk. One hand shoveling food into my mouth, the other writing on paper after paper. That's when Morgan slipped into my tent and dropped a scroll on my desk. Nearly fell onto the plate of eggs I was scarfing down.

"Hello to you too." I greet with a grumble, setting my fork down on the plate and unraveling the parchment. It a map. One that's been scrawled all over with arrows, zig zags and footnotes. The river that we were scouting with the Valentians… what is it now, two months ago? It's a battle plan.

"What in the world…?" I ask, eyes still focused on the drawing.

"First day." Morgan croaks out, sounding way too tired. I start taking a mental note of each unit's name scrawled across each arrow. They're color coded, blue and lavender denoting the origin of each element. Some hash mark is used to label each one based on their type; infantry, cavalry, mages, archers.

"First day? This is just one day!?" I ask, banking every motion to memory. It was... a preemptive strike. A bunch of different companies heading over the river and taking out the forward camps. After that we were supposed to hold in place for a while, then... run back the way we came? With a bunch of archers waiting on our side of the river. Oh my Gods, she's trying to force their hand with a fake attack. Why didn't I think of that?

"The whole battle's gonna take a week by my estimate." Morgan explained, I can hear her yawn. "Tomorrow we're gonna attack some camps in the woods… why's everything here named so funny? What's an _Alsace_ anyway? It sounds like a food seasoning, not forest."

"Morgan, you're gonna need to help me with this. Where am I even supposed to go?" I ask, setting the map down to take a look at her. I swallow my words when I get an actual look at my absentee sibling.

Morgan's eyes are ringed with dark bags. Doesn't look like she's done her hair in a while, the bob cut's now reached far past her shoulders. She's out of dress too, the only thing she's wearing is a pair of baggy pants and a cream tank-top that doesn't leave enough to the imagination. One of the straps are sagging too.

"What the hell!?" I cry out, making her jump back. She squeaks at the scare, tensing up her shoulders and stiffening. "Wh-what happened!?"

"U-um…" Morgan mumbles weakly as I stand. As she tries to explain I take her by the shoulders and guide her to the cot in the tent's corner. "I've been busy. Planning. Coordinating. Research."

"What kind of research does this?" I ask as we both sit down, the cot creaking in pain as it takes on our combined weight.

"Risen mask." She answers. "Investigating the source. New leads..."

Scowling, I try to keep Morgan steady as she sways back and forth. My little sister feels all clammy, like a living corpse. Her skin is cold to the touch and she feels way lighter than usual.

Now that I have a clear look at her back, I can also make out the purple brand burning on her right shoulder blade. It's bright, almost too bright to have gone unnoticed. If we're lucky it blended in with her hair, if we aren't...

"Damn it." I curse, pulling her down and making her lay on the cot. "Stay here, OK? I'm gonna get someone."

She tries to sit back up, but I push her back down and bore my eyes into her. Clearly fearing for her safety, she nods and pulls a blanket over her person.

After that I run out of the tent, there's one person in camp who's going to be able to help her.

* * *

"She just needs bed rest."

Blanche's healing stave dimmed as she stopped channeling, the white light having washed over Morgan for some time. I'd found her giving a sermon at the camp chapel. People from both armies were there, saying their prayers in their own native rites. Ancient Archenan and Valentian mixing together into a humming hymn, filling the air.

I ambushed Blanche afterwards, basically abducting her over here. After a quick diagnosis and another trip to get her staff, she'd gone to work on Morgan.

Little Miss War Cleric warbled in place. I brought a chair over and set it behind her, which she promptly collapsed into and gasped for breath.

"We didn't run _that_ far, your luminosity." I taunt as I take a seat on the grass, resting my back against the cot. I can finally feel some heat coming from Morgan's dozing form. She's snoring loudly in my ear, but honestly I'm just glad she's alright.

Blanche glared down at me, resting her staff in her lap. "I have not even had my meal yet, Volkner!" She snapped, teeth grit together. "And what do you mean 'not that far!?' Your tent is on the opposite side of the encampment from the common area!"

"Details, details." I wave away, verbally and physically. "If you're that hungry I've still got some eggs on that plate over there."

She looks over to my desk, scrunching up her nose as she spots my half-eaten food. "Do I look like a dog do you?"

"You're lucky we declared that truce, because you make it way too easy." I keep mocking, yawning softly myself. "I've got a few ration bars in the drawers, for your oh so discerning palate."

"I decline." She answers, shifting a bit in the chair. "After this I'm just going to the mess tent anyway."

"You're sure she's alright?" I ask once more.

"You have my word that your sister is fine. In truth the problem seems to be fatigue." Blanche explains. "She's locked herself in her tent for the past week. The only person to come out was a messenger runner."

"She's been obsessed with that risen mask we gave her." I mention. Maybe a bit too bitterly.

Blanche hums in tandem. "I do not blame her, frankly I would be lying if I said I was not curious."

"I still say we should've broken it."

"And lose a subject of study?" Blanche queries. "Truly this is the best chance to find the origin of these beasts."

"Who cares where they came from? The problem is that they're _here._ "

That got Blanche to smile. It's a lopsided smile, like she was just told a clever joke. "Isn't the way the story is supposed to go is that I, the Cleric, should be chastising _you_ over keeping an unholy relic?"

Still, the grin spreads over to me as she reveals just how self-aware she is at the mirrored situation we've found ourselves in. "Told ya life is strange like that." I answer, invoking that time we shared a bottle of ale at the tavern. "But you're a hundred percent sure the mask hasn't done anything to her?"

"My dear, you're speaking to a Doctor of the Church." She explains. "Out of anyone in this country. Dare I say anyone in this region of Valm itself, I am the most educated in the effects of elder corruption. If I am allowed to brag about my accomplishments."

"Allowed or not, you did it anyway, so why even ask?" I reply in annoyance, running a hand through my hair. I feel way, way too tense. This isn't how I wanted the morning to start. "She's my kid sister. I just… I need to be sure."

"You need not explain yourself to me, Captain. If Cherche was in a similar state I know I would be as distraught." Blanche comforts with a smile. Times like this, you can tell that she really is in her element. War doesn't seem to suit her very well, even if she is a War Cleric. She's very soft and sincere, nothing like the bat out of hell I'd grown so accustomed too from my time here.

"...You being this nice to me is weirding me out." I admit, shifting my rump around.

A soft chuckle. "So you would prefer if I returned to insulting you?"

"It's really jarring." I keep explaining. "You went from hating my guts to treating me well in just about a month."

"I've seen you work." She clarifies. "You care for your men, even though they are not of your homeland. You are diligent, even if grouchy while doing so. You've done what was asked of you, even when you need not take this duty."

"Wonderful." I state genuinely, returning the smile with equal glee.

"That being said, I still do not trust you or your sister." She throws out, ruining the mood. My face freezes in place as I can feel the corner of my mouth twitch.

I stare at her, waiting for an explanation why. She keeps humming to herself for a moment, focusing on the small of Morgan's back as she rolls over to bare her shoulders at us. A new heat bears against my neck now, coming off from her brand as it remains aglow.

"Remember when I said you both have an immense elder magic presence?" Blanche asks. I nod in response, but my heart drops as I put the dots together. "At first I thought this was because you both dabbled regularly in the dark arts. Hexes are still commonly used on Archanea." I could see her eyes flash as she looked at me, her friendly aura morphing into a wary defense. "But then your brands started to act strangely."

"I… uh…" Crap, crap, crap. I'm an idiot. I'm an IDIOT! What did I think was going to happen, bringing a clergywoman to look over Morgan. Of course she'd notice the fell presence! She already had once before with me!

"Normal birthmarks or tattoos do not burn with light." Blanche points out. She isn't making any motions for the axe on her hip this time, but I'm not so sure if I want to take the chance. Probably could spring up and tackle her before she could react. Push comes to shove I can easily put myself between her and Morgan.

"Then comes the matter of her and your arrival matching up oh so coincidentally as the risen make their return." She reveals.

"Wait, what!?" I yell out. "Hold up, you don't think we're the reason those things are back, do you!?"

"I know that there was no word or sign of them until a month after your sister's troops arrived." Blanche states matter-of-factly. "I know that the first attacks did not occur until you were both present in Roseanne."

"Blanche. I wasn't even on Valm when Morgan came here." I tell her desperately.

"And where were you? Elibe? Jugdral? From what I understand you simply disappeared." I doubt Morgan would've told her that, so Virion and Cherche were likely the ones to give that information over. Ugh, I wish this witch wasn't related to them! It'd make life so easy!

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you." It's the truth, she wouldn't. No one would.

She stared blankly at me, her face not betraying if she registered a word I said. "Too many things line up."

Again my eyes dart to her axe. I'm physically fighting myself to keep my hand away from the knife on my belt. The last thing I need is to give her validation… even _if_ I'd be thinking the same thing if I was in her shoes. "Then what're you gonna do?"

"What can I do?" She placidly admits. "You and your sister are foreign citizens. She is a high ranking officer, and you both belong to a Ylissean noble house. Acting on my suspicions would be self-destructive, Roseanne needs your troops." The woman stands to her feet, bringing her staff up and holding it to her side. "That and the Duke assures me you are both our allies and friends. As his Brigadier I do as he wishes."

"...And if none of that was the case?" I ask again, wary of her answer.

"I would promptly remove both of your heads." She coldly says. A shiver rises up my spine as I stand to meet her.

My hands are shaking. My whole _body_ is shaking. I've had a target painted on my back for this long and didn't notice. Who else is thinking this? Other Priests? Other soldiers? Maybe even some of my own men. And if someone saw Morgan's back while she walked here...

"Why are you telling me all of this? Showing your hand means I'll be more on guard from here on out."

An inhale and an exhale. Her eyes shut then open as her chests rises and lowers. "Because Miss Volkner, I desperately want to be wrong about my fears." She says. "Political reasons aside, I would rather not have two more lives added to my tally."

"How merciful." I spit out. "And if I don't believe you?"

"Then we find ourselves at another impasse, do we not?" She replies smugly, the corner of her mouth turning up.

She's right, we're at an impasse. As long as this war's going on, as long as she's working for Virion, she won't lay a finger on us. The consequences would be too severe for everyone involved. But the moment this ends Blanche is gonna be a wildcard I can't afford to have. Once she's done with me and Morgan…

Subaki. Caeldori. Imagining them locked up in a church tower. Oh gods, no.

Any more words I have die in my throat. She knows that the conversation is over. So Blanche curtsies, both hands grabbing the hem of her skirt as she bends her knee. Again I stop myself from drawing, fearing that she might lash out with her axe.

"Regardless, I must prepare for tomorrow's assault. Your company will be amongst the raiders, Captain. I recommend you spend the day resting as I will." Her words sound oh so sincere, but there's a bite to them. If I turn up dead tomorrow, it'll be a relief to her.

I nod. She leaves. Once she's gone I turn back around and crouch before my sleeping sister, wondering what my next play is going to be. Morgan's still oh so peaceful, not having caught a lick of what just occurred.

She might be a deeper sleeper than Nah.

* * *

Come dawn the next day, I push the previous morning out of my mind.

Morgan's orders involved us leaving camp before sunrise. We marched out towards the river and over the earthworks that had been dug up, then rushed over a few pontoon bridges into the forest on the other side. Half an hour of walking through the forest, keeping an eye out for any scouts or sentries. Until we reached our target, a Valentian camp.

The battle plan was laid out in stages. First stage was getting here without being spotted, which we've managed. Now we're just sitting outside the camp grounds, all of the troops spreading themselves around.

"I must admit, I am rather nervous." Caeldori mutters, holding her naginata close as we remain crouched at the edge of a small mound. "What do you see?"

I pull my spyglass down and retract it, then place the device into my satchel. "About four lookouts, one in each cardinal direction. Everyone else seems to still be in their tents. Judging from the lamp shadows, I'd say four or five people in each."

"And there are twelve tents. Plus I can hear noise coming from that larger one in the center." My daughter aims her finger at a sprawling, tapestry draped tent in the center. A large green and yellow flag waves in the sky above. More than a few voices can be heard clamoring inside, along with some pots and pans.

"They must be getting the group's breakfast ready." I observe, my own stomach growling in rebellion. One of the basic rules of war; never fight battles on an empty stomach. Gods, and they were serving sausages too! Gah!

"I would put a conservative estimate at sixty people." Caeldori thinks out loud. I bob my head in agreement, then turn to see her grimacing. "Are we sure that our people are prepared for this?"

"It's an easy job." I answer. "They don't see us coming, most of'em are still asleep and can't fight back. A mob of brigands could take these guys out, and they don't have military training."

"Does a month of drilling count as a full tenure of training here?" The warrior woman asks in disbelief.

I nod. "This isn't Hoshido, Caeldori. Most people in this world don't spend their entire lives honing warcraft."

"That… actually sounds rather quaint…" The sky knight admits, sighing as she looks about. "Should I go check if the men are ready."

"No." I jut a thumb over my shoulder, back the way we came. "Go make sure the Priests and Clerics are ready."

"But-"

"Caeldori, I had you bring Hinoka for a reason." I begin. "For now I need someone to guard them. After that I need a messenger to tell the Officers we've completed the first step."

"But I'll miss the entire battle!" She hisses in protest. "This is insulting, do you really think I can't handle myself in a fight!? I could likely clear this camp on my own!"

I jerk my head back over to her and snarl wickedly. "We're alone out here. If something goes wrong, no one will know and we **need a lifeline."** My words are pouring out of me before I can even think. There's too much on my mind to care about tact. "I'm not putting lives at risk for your **ego**. **Now** **do as I say!"**

Caeldori jumps at my sudden harshness, but her eyes harden just as quickly. She stares at me, her hands clutching her naginata as she opens and releases her grip in repetition. Half a mind tells me she's about to slug the back of my head.

"As you wish, 'Captain'." She forces herself to say, and leaves in a huff. My shoulders relax as I turn back to look at the camp.

A sound enters my realm of consciousness as footsteps sure themselves up next to me. Gwen goes down on one knee and peers out in the same direction I am, snickering as usual. "Take it she drew the short straw?"

"If by that I mean I made her, then yes." I answer in a low tone. Once again I've managed to turn my kid against me. This is starting to get old.

"Ah, that explains it." Gwen replies agreeably, yawning into the early morning. "Platoons're gonna be ready in five minutes by the way."

I grunt. "You brought the horn?"

She shakes the curved brass instrument next to my ear. "It's two blows to signal the attack right?"

Groaning, I lift my left hand with the fingers in question. "Two long calls to move in." I extend a third finger. "Three to hold the attack." Then a last. "Four to retreat."

"Got it." My Sergeant Major yawns again. "Gods, should've had some coffee before this."

"Got some in my canteen." I shake my hip, then feel her pluck it from my belt as she takes a long swig. Followed by an unceremonious belch.

"Ohhhh, that's the stuff. This that famous Ylissean roast I been hearin' about?"

"You think I'd drink that bitter sludge you Valmese call coffee?"

"I'd be offended if I didn't just drink black gold." Gwen answers, loudly slurping from my canteen. Almost like she's sucking on the thing… I'm gonna use a fire tome to clean it. "Say, been meanin' to ask uh… the Looie and you…"

"If you're about to suggest we're a thing, I'm going to stab you here." I threaten.

"Hey, hey! I know you're hitched!" She defends, but knowing her she's still smiling that dumb smile. "I wanted tuh ask if y'all were related."

"She's my Husband's cousin." I lie cleanly.

We'd discussed this before amongst ourselves. Subaki and I agreed that we would refer to Caeldori as his ward, to avoid needing to explain the deeprealms. Morgan and I agreed that as far as anyone asked, both of our parents had died during Grima's rising. It gave us believable covers given our unbelievable pasts. Subaki's does have four years on me, so it's not hard to buy into the idea that he's got a generally older family.

Besides, it would avoid people harassing Caeldori about favoritism. I know my daughter well enough that she's as hard on herself as I am to myself. If only Blanche didn't know, then I could avoid her being caught in any collateral come our fallout.

"Where's her parents?" Gwen asked.

"Dead. Same way your parents went." I quickly cobble together. It's good, build sympathy with a common backstory. Means the topic's sensitive enough that she won't bother Caeldori about it. "We took her in seven years ago when she was barely a teenager. So I'm more of a foster mother than anything."

"So you didn't raise'er?" She keeps interrogating.

"No." I admit, the pit piercing through my stomach. Guilt about the deep realm's never going to go away, and being reminded of it always makes it so much worse. "But I we treat each other like our own."

"Sure as hell fight like your own." Gwen quips. "So why did ya send'er back? We could've used a runner all the same."

"Because she's never killed anyone, and I plan on keeping it that way as long as I can." I stick my hand behind me, beckoning for the canteen. Once Gwen hands it over, I take a sip myself and try to ignore her backwash.

"She's a soldier now, Cap. Killin's part of the territory." Gwen hummed. "We're all here willin'ly, we're all willin' to do what needs doin'."

I roll my eyes, looking over my shoulder. "How many people have you had to take out?"

She's looking forward with an empty look. No dopey grin, no smarmy glance. Her usual cock-sure attitude's missing entirely, hell she looks _serious_ for the first time since I've gotten to know her. Even back in the castle when she had a blade in her arm she was making jokes and laughing.

"Enough tuh understand why you're shieldin'er from this." Gwen admits. "Killin' folks ain't natural. Ain't what Mila would've wanted. It's why when we do it, we get that guilt. 'Cuz we know there should've been a better way."

"I'm sensing a 'but' coming."

She frowns, pointing forward as a pair of soldiers leave one of the tents and starts walking towards the center of camp. "But I know if I don't kill these folks now, they're gonna hurt the people I'm protectin' at home. So I'll do it without flinchin' and drink to forget later."

"Words to live by." I agree begrudgingly.

No, I can't hide her from this life. Yes, she chose to do this knowing it'd mean hurting people. But still, in spite of it all I feel like I need to try something. Fighting Vallites might be harder than dealing with normal people, but that doesn't make it any less taxing. And it doesn't help that she's good at what she does. When she said she could clear this entire camp on her own, I totally believed her.

Funny. I'm not worried about her getting hurt at all, but what'll happen when she gets others hurt. My priorities are totally out of whack.

"...So uh, reason why I was askin'..." Gwen starts back up. "Is uh… she's single, right?"

That does it. I do a spit-take with my coffee, splattering the dark liquid all over the grass I've been laying on. Some of it even gets into my mouth, and I need to spit that crap out as well.

"I take it that's a yes?" Gwen follows up.

"Wh-why are you asking me!?" I sputter, still trying to get a few green blades off of my tongue.

"Well I could ask your hubby, but I see you more than him." She this like it's completely natural. Which it isn't. Nothing about this is normal and I want it to stop immediately.

"I didn't even know you were into girls, Gwen!"

That smarmy grin returns, along with some dancing eyebrows. "I'm happy with either or. Cute's cute."

Nope. We're not talking about this now. Already have enough stuff screwing with my head as is. I just point to the horn in her hands. "J-just give the signal already!"

"Alright, alright. Yeesh." Gwen concedes, bringing the horn up. She takes in a long breath, readying her lungs before unleashing two long blows. The waves fly through the forest, silencing any chirping birds or scurrying squirrels. All of the Valentians turn to face my direction. The a few heads poke out from the assorted tents.

Our men burst out from the surrounding brush. From behind bushes and trees, springing up from laying silently on the ground. Beforehand we had surrounded the camp in a semi-circle, leaving the rear open. Now a wall of lavender roared out from the forest's green, spears hefted forwards.

" **ALARM!"** One of the sentries cries out, running back towards the main tent in a panic. Other Valentians start to stumble out from their dormitory tents, half dressed and half asleep. Only when they see the oncoming attack do they realize what's happening.

I draw my sword and beckon Gwen to her feet. She readies her shield and spear, then both of us rush up forwards just as both forces make contact. Screams and cries kick off while we rush forwards, along with the din of armor and metal smashing together. Bodies falling down onto the dew covered grass.

Both of us piece through the peripheral ring and head for the center tent. A few Roseannean troops take note and follow us, breaking off from the others. There's about eight of us in total as we surge in through the flaps and look inside.

We're greeted by seven people, all in various stages of dress. One girl is actively hiding behind a large pot, clutching a wooden spoon like it's a club. Two myrmidons come to meet us, one after the other. And of course, because I'm at the front, they come after me first.

As the first one brings their blade down to strike at me, I lift my buckler and deflect the attack. My hand goes up as I wrap it around his shoulder, then slip my rapier between his ribs. The strike is wet and meaty, judging from the resistance I tear a hole right in his lung.

The second myrmidon tries to lunge forward and pierce my side while I'm undefended, but I just keep my hold on his already dying companion and twist him around. A second blade goes through the unlucky fellow, slicing past a shoulder blade and almost nicking me.

I push the now-corpse away, tearing my weapon out in the process and using it as a weight to bring my final assailant back to the ground. My friends have already run behind me and deeper into the tent to deal with whatever's left while I focus on the scraps in front of me.

The myrmidon's pinned under the cadaver of his fallen friend. His blade's still jammed through, and judging by the looks of it the hilt is also shoving itself into his stomach. Poor boy keeps trying to weasel himself out from underneath, and his desperation only gets worse as I stand above him with my bloodied blade.

One strong kick to the head's enough to knock him out.

Another scream fills my ears, and as I turn around one of my men goes flying back out the entrance we came.

At the very end of the tent from the back room, a large man's made his way into the center. Fur collar is lining his neck, along with a large bronze helmet covering up his face. No weapon in his hands, but he doesn't need one. All of my men are getting tossed around like sacks of potatoes, slammed against the ground and into the meal tables. There's three other people behind him, but they're panicked enough to just be content to hide in his shadow.

Gwen stumbles back as he slugs her square in the chest. Then he stomps forward and follows up with a kick in the same place, and now she's launched onto her ass and at my feet. I quickly start to pull her back up, her heavy breathing in my ear.

"You OK?" I ask, draping her arm over my shoulder. She answers with a cough, spitting onto the ground before nodding.

My other troops are slowly clawing themselves up, grabbing their weapons once more and surrounding the muscular behemoth. Gwen steps up to her feet, pulling her short sword out as her usual spear lies on the other side of the room. Once again we begin to surround him, steel tips forming a ring of death. Each aimed for his abdomen, chest or side. Impossible to block.

Letting my sword hang at my side, I lift up my left hand. The militiamen and women stay still, looking over to my in anticipation. I jump between reading their eyes, some look scared out of their skin, others seem to be begging me to give them the order.

"Last chance to give up. Not really any other way out of this for you." I inform, hand going down to rest on my hip. Gwen's huffing next to me, rubbing her chest where the blows landed. I think her armor's dented too, how strong is this guy?

The man stays still, the only way I can tell he's alive is how his chest keeps rising and settling with each breath. Through the slits of his helmet, I can barely make out his eyes. Sharp and yellow, like a lightning bug in the darkness. No response at all.

"If you give up, I'll tell my guys to quit the murdering outside." I jerk my thumb over my shoulder, towards the telltale sound of battle. Judging by how things are going, the fighting's shifted from the outskirts and pushed more into the core of the ring itself. "You and whoever's still alive can see the end of this."

Another beat of silence. The yellow behind his mask flickers up and down, as if he's trying to judge my trustworthiness from what he can see in front of me. My uniform's probably all greened up from grass and moss stains, plus the red splattered over my blade and torso.

He complies though. Going down on both knees and resting one hand on each of his thighs.

I point to a random person. "You, rope." They nod and run, I point to another person. "You, get the healers over here." They also take off.

"Watch them. No one leaves this tent until they're all bound." Is my final order before walking away. Gwen stomps behind me, grumbling as we part through the tent.

The outside's lost any semblance of serenity it had once possessed. Tents are torn apart and stomped on. Poles, stands and clothes lines are strewn about like a small child's playpen. A lot of bodies are lying down on the ground in different poses. The green of their uniforms almost bleeds into the ground. Some don't even have weapons near them.

"Hold the attack." I parse. Gwen complies, bringing the instrument to her mouth and firing off three long, shaky notes. Soon after the sound of combat starts to die itself, the cacophony of strikes and slashes ceasing.

Off in the distance, the group of healers trudges their way towards the battleground. Think I hear my leaf haired companion say something about checking for prisoners, and she leaves me. So I walk halfway to meet the six men and women, all keeping their healing staves close while Percy heads them up. Caeldori brings up the rear, riding atop her steed and taking vigil over the scene before them.

"Any trouble?" I ask him.

Percy shakes his head rapidly, almost throwing his specs from his face. "Not a sound! We just stayed back like you told us."

"Well, at least _someone_ doesn't question my orders." I shoot a look up at the lone rider behind them, her cheeks flaring red as she averts my gaze. "Right, do a headcount and check if we've lost anyone. Fix up any injuries and get ready for the next stage."

They all nod and run forward, eager to get to work and fix what they can. I grab Percy's arm as he moves past me, triggering one of his telltale yelps of surprise.

"If you can save any of the Valentians, do it. Prioritize'em if they're in serious trouble, OK?" I tell him. His eyes twinkle in relief and he nods in the affirmative, running off at triple everyone else's speed with his newfound purpose.

I trot up next to Caeldori's side, removing a cloth from my hip and running it along my red blade. The iron scents mix together and invade my nose, and I resist the urge to puke up the coffee I drank before. "Now you see why I didn't want you here?" I ask her.

"Most of them aren't even dressed…" She observes in a small voice. "They had no chance."

"No, they didn't. We caught them off guard at the worst time." I inform. "Everything went off without a hitch."

Off in the distance, I can see a few of the militia raise their arms and cheer as it seems the fighting's completely ceased. Some of'em are manhandling whatever Valentians surrendered before getting shishkebab'd.

"They seem far too happy." Caeldori remarks in disgust.

"They think they just won their first fight." I muse coolly, shrugging at her disgust. "Let'em have this. Helps morale."

"This wasn't a fight, this was a massacre!" She cries out.

"Yeah, the next step's the real fight." I hum as the sun starts to poke it's way through the tree cover. It starts to illuminate my left side, heating up my skin underneath. "Still want to be a hero, dear?"

"Quit rubbing it in." She grumbles.

"Not until you get the point." I press, sheathing my weapon. "People here don't fight like they did in Hoshido and Nohr. When a battle starts, no one holds back. Both sides use whatever trick they can, even if it's…"

"Morally bankrupt?"

"Brutal." I correct. "We aren't fighting Vallites anymore Caeldori. I need to know you can handle this before I send you into combat, alright?"

"...Alright." She concedes, shifting uncomfortably in her saddle as she watches our troop movements. "Thank you. Maybe you do know better than me after all."

"Only maybe? Come on." I huff sarcastically, croaking out a dry laugh. "Do you want to go help Percy with the survivors?"

"I… believe I would prefer that." She complies, nudging Hinoka forwards as they both trot off towards the remains of what had occurred. Before she leaves me entirely, she weakly gestures at my head. "You have some b-... wipe your face please." She quietly requests, then solemnly rides forth.

I wipe both my cheeks with a hand, looking at the palms to see one is now smeared with crimson. The smell grows stronger, boring deep through my nose and into my brain. Before I know it, I gag and double over, dry heaving at the scent.

Blood and iron. It smells oh so much like home.


End file.
